


Dominate Me

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Dominant/Submissive dynamics, Draco in a suit kink, M/M, Open Relationships, Public Sex, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex in loos, There shouldn't be any triggers, everything is fully consensual, one offs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 03:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: After the war, Draco finds a unique way to atone for his sins and ends up as a Dom in an exclusive muggle sex club. At the same time, he and Harry start dating without even realizing it, however, Draco refuses to tell Harry about his lifestyle and and keeps Harry at arm's length. Harry's not quite sure whether he should hold onto hope or let Draco go.





	Dominate Me

**Author's Note:**

> Even though this fic is fairly sex heavy and could be termed hardcore, I think of it as rather light. I honestly don't think there are any triggers in it, but if you find one, please let me know so that I can tag it.

On May 2 nd  1998, Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord in a battle that nearly destroyed Hogwarts. Afterwards, Draco felt so many things, the main one being relief that the war was finally over and that his family was now free from a madman who would have murdered Draco in cold blood if given the chance – at least, that's what was said during the final duel.

For the first few months after that, Draco ran the gamut of emotions; elation, giddiness, more relief, remorse, sorrow, shame, depression, and stress that he might be convicted of war crimes and sent to Azkaban. When he was found not guilty, one might think that he'd go back to being elated – and perhaps he did for a few hours, but then more depression, remorse, and shame set in.

He honestly felt as if he should be thrown in prison until he had atoned for his actions that led to Dumbledore's death. Despite not being at Draco's hand, he still felt responsible for it. Not to mention everything else he did at the Dark Lord's command. He had nightmares about it every night.

In an effort to make the bad feelings go away, Draco took to drinking, and when that was no longer enough, he took drugs. Muggle drugs that he obtained at muggle clubs and parties, which also provided him with a near endless source for his other method of attempting to feel better: sex.

At first, it was simple one offs in loos and spending the night with strangers – both men and women. He _always_ left before they woke up the next morning, and almost never had sex with the same person twice. And then he met a couple that changed his life.

As Draco sat drinking in the club, waiting for the drug dealer to deem it safe to walk around making deals – she was always careful to scout for potential cops before doing her business – he scanned the crowd for someone interesting to shag. Maybe he could start with a little mutual oral in the loo and then go home with someone else. On a busy night, he actually had a couple of smaller orgasms from frotting and the like before seeking out a bed, and so far, the selection held the promise of being a very busy night.

Suddenly, a couple in their late thirties or early forties sat at his table. They eyed him up and down appreciatively even as he did the same to them. They were a good looking couple; the wife had obviously dyed dark red hair, luscious red lips, and a soft chubbiness that enhanced the curves she knew how to flaunt to her advantage. The husband was also a little chubby, but he radiated confidence that more than made up for that in Draco's mind. Besides, he was taller than Draco – which not too many men could claim to be. He was good looking, with chocolate brown hair and a well groomed beard. He carried himself with an air that suggested that he was dead certain he was a king among men, and his wife was very much a sexy version of the same.

“Something I can help you with?” Draco asked with interest. This seemed like the beginning of something that most definitely could not be finished right out here or in the loo.

The wife straddled Draco's lap and gave him a heated kiss before shifting to bite his ear lobe. “I'm going to strip you naked, tie your hands behind your head, and force you to orally please my husband and me for _hours_ ,” she murmured in his ear before licking the spot she had just bitten.

Draco cleared his throat and shifted (or possibly squirmed) in his chair, _definitely_ interested now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a smoky look that pierced his eyes. “Then I'm going to tie you to our bed while we use you in every way we can think of. I'd text your loved ones letting them know you're alright and going to be missing for a few days if I were you.”

“My loved ones already know that I'm going to be missing for a few days,” Draco replied with a shrug, unconsciously stroking his hands up and down her back, arse, and hips. Which was true enough. Draco often took a steady stream of drugs that made him lose track of time and party for days, and so his parents wouldn't worry too much about him. They had a spell that was a family secret that could confirm that he was still alive – if they had the hour or so it took to cast – and track him almost anywhere if need be, so Draco wasn't that worried, and if they killed him, well...

Maybe that was for the best.

“Come,” sexy ordered as she slipped off his lap and stood up. Her husband helped him up, and then tugged him closer for a sensual kiss that made Draco's heart speed up just a little with anticipation. Afterwards, the man tucked his wife's hand in the crook of his arm and escorted her out of the club as Draco followed.

The man seemingly didn't care about their lives or his extremely expensive green and blue sports cars – or getting caught by the police – as he drove them home at top speed. Literally. He and his wife also insisted that Draco sit in the front passenger seat and give him a blowjob as he drove. This inexplicably thrilled Draco to no end, especially once the wife started roughly grinding her hand against Draco's erection in the very confined space of his lap.

The moment the car stopped, she yanked Draco's head away by his hair. “That's enough for now, my lover. I am far too anxious to get you stripped off and tied up to wait even a second longer than I have to.”

Draco smirked cockily, not blaming her in the slightest for being eager to see him naked. The three of them practically jogged into the house and all the way to a spacious room that contained an enormous bed and a _lot_ of naughty toys. Draco gulped, nervous for the first time. There were things in this room he sincerely hoped never got used on anyone.

Sexy yanked him to the exact spot she wanted him via his necktie. He was wearing one of his many posh suits – that would be more suited to a business meeting than a muggle club, but he liked to always look his best. As she loosened his shiny, dark green tie, she gently bit his lip, and then licked his lips.

“Tell me, my lover, what exactly do you need?”

Draco frowned in confusion. “How do you mean?”

“Well, if I'm doing things right, I'll not only be taking exactly what I need from you – as will my husband – but we'll _also_ be giving you what you need,” she explained.

“Er... I'm not sure...” Draco murmured, still frowning.

She smirked at him. “Interesting. You see, to me, you look like a young man who always knows exactly what he wants and gets it – no matter what it takes.” She licked his neck as she slid the tie off and tossed it aside. “You also look like a man who desperately wants to be anyone else for a while. Perhaps no one. A man without a problem or a care in the world.”

“Yeah...” Draco whispered as he realized that she was right.

The man stroked Draco's cheek as his wife unbuttoned Draco's shirt. “I've seen you before. You go to clubs in a desperate search for anything that will stop the pain for even a short time. Like most men, you have discovered that all the best vices work – for a time – but they're not enough. Not nearly enough. You need to lose yourself – to shed your outer layers until there's nothing left to get in the way of finding your true self. The self hidden so deep inside that you might not even realize he exists.”

If Draco wasn't quite certain that these two at least wanted some form of sex from him, he'd suddenly be suspicious that they were religious muggles trying to convert him.

“My name is Amethyst, but you must always call me Mistress or my Lady.”

“And my name is Geoffrey. I really am a Lord – a Baron – but I prefer to be called Master. Do you understand?”

“Yes, er...” Draco hesitated, and then decided to submit for now. “Master.”

“Good,” Geoffrey praised, stroking his cheek again before kissing him. Meanwhile, Amethyst busied herself with removing Draco's trousers. “And since you wish to be nobody, we shall call you boy, or pet.”

“Or lover,” Amethyst added. “Don't tell us your name. It's not time for that yet.”

Nodding in understanding, Draco looked down to take a moment to think about how this made him feel. If he were honest, he was conflicted. Part of him wanted to assert that he was Draco Malfoy – practically a Prince among wizards! – but another part wanted what they were offering; a chance to be anybody but himself for the night. Or however long they kept him.

As he thought, they ran their hands all over his naked body, getting a really good feel of all his most intimate parts. Amethyst stroked his rigidly erect shaft and Geoffrey rubbed the pad of his middle finger against Draco's anus – which felt surprisingly wonderful.

“Now kneel,” Amethyst commanded.

“Yes Mistress,” Draco murmured obediently as he slowly did what he was told.

Geoffrey took Draco's hands and firmly placed them behind Draco's head. “You're going to be a good boy and keep your hands exactly as they are, understood?”

“Yes Master.”

By this point, Amethyst had removed everything she was wearing except for a sort of corset in red that didn't cover her breasts but kept her full hourglass shape. Draco thought it might be called a waist cincher rather than a corset, but he wasn't sure. In any case, it left her exposed to not just his greedy eyes, but also the eager tongue she insisted that he use on her.

“As you pleasure me, my husband shall strike you with a soft flogger. Our goal is not to cause you pain, but to heighten your senses. To surprise you when you least expect it. To use the anticipation to metaphorically peel back your layers and encourage you to submit to our will.”

Geoffrey illustrated her point by doing exactly as promised. With his right hand, he used a soft multi-tailed flogger that appeared to be made out of light purple yarn to whip Draco. There was no predictable pattern to the strikes, which made Draco close his eyes and focus on his job of pleasing Amethyst.

Fairly quickly, Draco completely surrendered his will to them. He did everything they commanded – orally pleasing them, massaging and pampering them, acting like a pet, and serving them like a servant. He also let them do whatever they could think of to him. As promised, they used him so thoroughly that he reached a state of utter peace.

This amazed Draco. He was astonished to discover that surrendering every bit of himself to their will was liberating. For an indeterminate amount of time, he wasn't a Malfoy. He wasn't even Draco! He was simply a boy who existed to serve his Master and Mistress in any way he could. Since he had a terrible experience with a different Master, he really hadn't expected such a thing to be possible, but it was true.

He had found the person he was way down deep inside...

Draco stayed with Geoffrey and Amethyst on and off for a few months. Long enough for Draco to fully embrace his inner self. Long enough for him to realize something very important... As fulfilling as it was to serve others, he was a very dominate person. He _craved_ being able to give this gift to others.

And so, Geoffrey and Amethyst took him to a club they owned and trained him in domination. As they once informed him, his “job” was to give his submissives what they needed – which in and of itself was exactly what Draco needed. Thus, he was eventually one of the few people the Lord and Lady trusted to have free reign over their patrons.

 

***

 

A few days after turning 25, Harry was strolling along Diagon Alley, contemplating whether or not he should get Ginny a pet for a birthday present. She'd always wanted a kneazle but was usually too busy traveling around the world as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. He figured a small owl or a Tea Cup Yorkie might actually be good for her. They were both tiny and portable so she could bring them with her wherever she went.

But on the other hand, a pet was a responsibility that she might not be _capable_ of committing to at the moment. It was a dilemma. Once upon a time ago – when they were dating – he could have given it to her with the promise that he'd take care of the pet while she was gone, but that was not very realistic these days. If he did that now, he may as well just get himself a pet.

In his intense and circuitous pondering, he wasn't paying full attention to where he was going, and so, he literally ran into the man in front of him. Which turned out to be Draco Malfoy – who was standing in the middle of the sidewalk wearing an expression like he was both amused and baffled by the fact that Harry hadn't seen him there. He quirked a brow.

“Potter...”

“Oh, sorry!” Harry apologized profusely, flushing in embarrassment. “I wasn't looking where I was going.”

“Clearly,” Draco drawled in his posh voice. He wasn't trying to be a prat though.

Harry inexplicably felt a need to explain himself. “I was thinking about what to buy Ginny for her birthday and, well, I ran into you...”

Draco tilted his head slightly in curiosity. “The Prophet reported that the two of you had broken up a few years ago. I take it they were wrong about that as well?”

“No, that's true,” Harry stated with a shrug.

“I see... May I ask _why_ you broke up with her?”

It was Harry's turn to raise a brow. “Are you asking because you actually want to know the answer or because it seems like the thing to ask in this situation?”

“I actually want to know,” Draco replied, and his voice was surprisingly gentle.

“In that case, I'm almost certainly going to need a drink. How would you like to go to a muggle pub with me?” Harry invited, a bit surprised to hear himself do so.

Draco was a little taken aback. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not? Perhaps it's time we had a chat and got to know each other again now that we're both grown up and free from certain... influences...” Harry said, not quite sure how to explain what he meant.

“Yeah, alright,” Draco agreed, finding the prospect strangely appealing.

It took about ten minutes or so for them to walk to the pub from where Harry Apparated them to. Soon enough, they were settled at a table in a somewhat secluded corner. Harry ordered them both a couple bottles of Brewdog Punk IPA and what was arguably the best fish and chips in all of London. Draco inspected the food warily, but decided to give it a chance.

“This isn't half bad,” he pronounced mildly. He wasn't a fan of the grease, but it tasted rather good.

Harry grinned at him. “I'm glad you like it.” What he didn't say was that it was proof that Draco wasn't _always_ a poncy bastard.

After eating in relative silence for a minute or so, Harry cleared his throat. “Alright, so, Ginny and I were dating and we were really serious too. We'd talked about getting married and even half planned out a wedding – although neither of us actually popped the question – but then...” Harry took a large swig of ale to clear out his mouth. “We both realized that getting married at that point would be a bad idea. I was just entering Auror training and she had received an offer to play for the Harpies. Getting married meant that she'd have to give up on that and stay home while I was spending most of my time and energy in training. It just wouldn't have been fair to either of us, so we broke up.”

Draco frowned a little. “So... The two of you didn't fall out. You still have plans to get married when the time _is_ right?”

Harry tilted his head side to side. “Maybe that's what we thought at the time, but every time we manage to see each other... things are different between us. I no longer feel like she's my sun, moon, and stars. Maybe I'll feel like that again when we _are_ ready to settle down, but right now, I think of her more like a precious friend than a wife.”

“So then, Rita Skeeter was just trying to make a profit when she wrote that you caught Ginny cheating on you with a rival team's Beater?” Draco stated more than asked.

“Exactly. That tidbit actually came up in a conversation I had with Ginny about a year later in which she told me that she was half dating a rival Beater and we joked that people would think she was cheating on me if they knew.” Harry shrugged as if asking: _what can you do?_ “What about you?”

“What about me?” Draco asked in confusion.

“Word in the Prophet for a while there was that you were going to marry some witch a few years younger than us,” Harry clarified.

“That was true enough,” Draco admitted with a shrug. “My parents and her parents wanted us to get married practically the moment she graduated Hogwarts, but when we had a chance to talk alone, Astoria realized that she wasn't ready for marriage yet. She wanted a chance to travel for a bit, and I'd found a way to give back – so to speak – that I wasn't willing to give up for her.”

“Why would you have to? Giving back is a good thing, right?” Harry asked curiously.

“Normally, but this particular cause is time consuming and it demands a lot of my attention,” Draco explained exactly as much as he felt comfortable with.

“Fair enough,” Harry murmured in acceptance, sensing that Draco didn't want to go into details.

To both of their astonishment, they spent the next six hours drinking IPA and chatting. Most of it was civil, but some of it was bickering. Some of it felt exactly like the snarky conversations they'd have in Hogwarts, only this time, it made them both laugh.

After eating dinner and drinking a bit more, Harry finally decided to take a risk. Taking a deep breath, he pierced Draco with a serious gaze. Draco quirked a curious brow.

“So... how would you like to come back to mine tonight?”

Draco smoothed out a wary expression and took a sip of his ale in order to think for a moment. “Are you asking for a shag?”

Harry nodded slowly in confirmation. He'd paced his drinking so that he wasn't drunk, but even so, he had enough in him to throw caution to the wind and ask for a chance. The worst that could happen was that Draco would say no and leave.

“I'm not looking to date anyone right now,” Draco informed him.

“So that's a no?” Harry asked in disappointment.

“Well, it's not a yes yet,” Draco answered with a shrug. “I wouldn't mind a good shag, but I'm not starving for sex at all, much less enough that I'd make promises I have no intention of keeping, Potter. I'm not looking to date, so if we do this, it's nothing more than a one off.”

Harry chuckled wryly. “You say that as if you think that Gryffindors are incapable of having casual sex.”

“Not Gryffindors specifically,” Draco replied with a slight shake of his head. “Just... people in general. It's rare to find someone outside of a club who wants nothing but a night. Even those who prefer casual sex tend to want a series of encounters, and I don't want that.”

Harry narrowed his eyes in concern. “So... you _only_ sleep around and have one offs?”

“No,” Draco stated honestly with a shake of his head. “I _used_ to, but then I found enlightenment. Look, all I really mean is that I am not looking to date. If you still want to shag, then yes, I'd be happy to go back to yours tonight.”

Harry took a deep breath as he thought this over. Then he nodded. “Yeah, that's actually what I was looking for too. A night. I had a difficult case this week and now that I've solved it, I just want to shag until I pass out and wake up refreshed.”

Draco grinned devilishly. “Well now, sounds like we want the same thing.”

Harry tilted his head in the direction of the exit in a silent question. Draco nodded in agreement and stood up. Harry tossed more than enough money on the table to cover their tab, and then led Draco out of the pub and to the nearest Apparation point.

Harry Apparated them directly into his bedroom. Draco looked around curiously. The room was a study in contradictions. It had minimal furniture, but what it had was sturdy and of good quality. The room was large enough that there was plenty of space, and yet the furniture was all clustered together cozily. It wasn't exactly a mess, but there were things (mostly clothes) tossed about carelessly.

But none of that mattered. The only thing that did matter was that Harry's bed was what was known as a King size – although it was smaller than the beds in the Manor. Still, it was more than plenty big enough for what they had in mind. Draco grinned at Harry, still not entirely certain how things had turned out like this.

With a smoldering look, Harry reached out and pulled Draco's shiny black tie that had a light sprinkling of tiny silver dots open. When Draco didn't protest, Harry felt confident that he'd be allowed to unbutton the two buttons holding the sleek black business suit jacket closed. The jacket and trousers were both a shade of black that wasn't exactly shiny, but looked “bright” considering that it was an inky black with a subtle silver pin-striping. Underneath was a silver waistcoat – complete with an ornate silver pocket watch – over a crisp white shirt that had silver cuff links bearing a stylized M.

All of this was removed slowly, Harry enjoying the show as the pale skin was revealed. He pressed light kisses to places such as Draco's shoulder blade and the ridge of his collar bone. He made a soft unconscious noise of distress when he encountered faint scars on Draco's chest – which he licked and kissed.

Draco moaned softly, feeling unexpectedly moved by Harry's wordless show of remorse. When Harry lifted Draco's left arm so that he could get a good look at the faded Dark Mark, he stiffened as if he needed to prepare for a battle, but Harry simply gave Draco an understanding look before kissing a path up Draco's forearm. He gasped at the action, which made his heart clench almost painfully. _No one_ had ever done that! Either they knew what the Mark was and ignored or sneered at and avoided it, or they didn't know what the Mark was and just thought it was a somewhat interesting tattoo.

Only Harry could use kissing the Mark as a way of saying: _Hey, I know what you did and I understand why you did it._ Maybe he was even saying: _I forgive you._ If he wasn't careful, Draco might start crying!

By this point, Draco was wearing only a pair of black silk pants, but Harry was still fully dressed. Draco decided that this needed to be remedied. So, he pulled Harry into a demanding kiss for a few moments before pushing him away just enough to grab the tight black, thin cotton tee shirt Harry was wearing and pull it up over Harry's head.

Underneath was an ovular burn-like scar sort of over Harry's heart. Draco frowned in concern as he traced a finger over it. Rather than ask – even though he was dying of curiosity – Draco mimicked Harry by kissing the scar as his hands roamed Harry's chest, sides, and back. Harry was half a head shorter than Draco, but he was a strange combination of scrawny and muscular. Harry had always been scrawny, so that wasn't really a surprise. And he must've had some sort of physical training as an Auror, which explained the muscles. Draco lightly scratched his nails down Harry's chest before repeating the action with his tongue.

Harry moaned, honestly more than ready to throw Draco on the bed and shag him dirty rotten, but he thought that Draco might be likely to flee like a skittish colt if Harry rushed him, so he held still and let Draco's hands slowly roam lower. His breath hitched in anticipation when Draco unbuttoned his coarse and artistically “ripped” denim trousers. He pushed them down to reveal that Harry wasn't wearing any pants. He never did, for some reason.

“Mmm...” Draco moaned in appreciation as he repeatedly caressed the thick and rigidly erect shaft with both hands. He made a motion that was a bit like milking a cow – wrapping his hands around the shaft one at a time and slowly pulling towards his own body. The look on his face made Harry wonder if he was thinking: _I found a new toy and I'm going to play with it as much as possible._

“I'm going to want this inside me later on, but for now, I want to know what you had in mind,” Draco murmured, his breath hot on Harry's ear.

Harry shivered in anticipation. “Well, first, I'm going to need you to take off your pants – which feel like a cloud.” As he said this, his hands were busy caressing the silk covering Draco's arse. “And then I'd love it if you draped yourself over my pillows.”

Chuckling and grinning rather smugly, Draco slipped free of his pants, and then crawled onto the bed, swaying his hips a little for show as he rearranged Harry's pillows to form a mound in the middle of the bed – which he formed a bridge over on his hands and knees as he looked back to confirm that Harry was staring at his arse and practically drooling.

“Like this?” Draco asked as he lowered his chest to the bed, emphasizing that his arse was in the air, the pillows supporting his hips and abdomen.

Harry moaned in longing and appreciation. “Yes, like that exactly.” He climbed onto the bed behind Draco and bent so that he could explore the entire area with both his hands and his tongue. He lightly tickled the bumpy ridges of Draco's bollocks with his tongue as the pad of one of his thumbs rubbed Draco's tight pucker.

Draco felt a shudder go through his entire body and buried his face in the bed as he moaned. Harry decided that a broad stripe of his tongue along Draco's crack would be interesting, and this also provoked a nice moan from Draco, so he repeated the action until he felt like forming a point with his tongue and using it to push into and soften Draco.

When there was a noticeable relaxing of those tight muscles, Harry conjured up some cinnamon and orange oil and slowly worked two of his fingers into Draco. He positively loved it when he brushed against the prostate and Draco reacted. Sometimes he gasped. Sometimes he shuddered. Sometimes he whimpered. Eventually, he produced a long pearly string of preejaculate that Harry carefully gathered with the fingers of his free hand and – tapping on Draco to gain his full attention – lowered into his mouth as if he was eating a long string of spaghetti.

“Mmm, not bad, Malfoy.”

“Mmm...” Draco moaned, the sight doing things to him that he couldn't quite explain.

Harry wiggled the fingers still inside Draco and inclined his head. “Are you ready?”

Draco nodded slowly, not willing to admit that he hadn't bottomed since Geoffrey a few years ago. He very much wanted to, but Geoffrey had been average in both length and width. Harry was average in length but much thicker with a bulbous mushroom head, and that could potentially hurt if Harry didn't know what he was doing. Still, Harry had taken the time to work Draco open and prepare him as much as possible, so Draco decided to trust him. “Yeah.”

“You're very tight, so I'm going to go very slow at first,” Harry informed him. “Even if you like it rough with a lot of burn, I'm more comfortable easing myself in.”

Draco chuckled wryly. “I bet with a girth like that, you'd have to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry stated. He reached around and grabbed hold of Draco's long shaft with his oiled up hand. “Whereas _you_ are long and thin and perfect for anal. I'd love to have you plow me into the bed later – if you're up for it.”

“Oh I will be,” Draco promised with smug confidence. After all, he'd had enough practice at sex that he'd managed to cultivate a rather impressive stamina. More than just stamina, he had the ability to remain hard after his first ejaculation. On very rare occasions, he could stay hard after his second, but usually, by the time he had a second, hours had passed and he was more than ready to go to sleep and recover.

“Good,” Harry stated in anticipation. He worked himself into Draco slowly as he'd said, but eventually he was buried deep. Draco flexed his muscles around Harry curiously a few times, liking the minor burn and the feeling of being full. Both of them made small unconscious noises of pleasure as Harry waited for Draco to finish adjusting, then he pulled back and began a nice slow rocking that turned into long, smooth thrusts. Harry loved the feel of Draco and could quite happily do exactly this all night, but his body had other ideas. It sped up more and more until Harry was _ramming_ Draco into the pillows.

Draco grunted and groaned with each thrust, loving how – now that his hole was obviously relaxed and accepting – Harry was giving it to him hard and fast. Even better, his prostate had continual stimulation that rapidly had him approaching his first climax. He clutched the bedding with his fists and pressed his face into the mattress as a long low squeal came from him. His whole body seized up, shaking as his blood felt molten and his breath deserted him.

Suddenly the entire world went white for a few seconds before going black for a few seconds. Draco felt pleasure like he'd never quite known before as he created a hot pool on the pillows. He gasped a few times before his body seemed to melt and he panted heavily.

Meanwhile, Harry was groaning in profound relief as the magical rippling on his shaft pulled an orgasm from him too. He pumped Draco full, feeling like it went on and on before he collapsed onto Draco's back and panted in his ear.

Draco chuckled a moment later. “I thought you wanted me to take a turn with you.”

“You're capable of doing that _already_?” Harry asked incredulously as he pulled his flaccid shaft free from Draco's heavenly arse.

Laughing, Draco rolled them over so that he was on top of Harry, who was now on his back. He grabbed one of Harry's hands and brought it to his shaft. “Don't I _feel_ capable?”

Harry made a sound like: Huh! “Yeah, you do. How are you still hard?”

Draco smirked and decided to lie just a little. “Magic!”

“A potion?” Harry asked with interest.

“Maybe I'll tell you some day,” Draco replied with a shrug. He distracted Harry by kissing him while one hand carefully probed him and worked him open. When Harry was well prepared and ready, he tugged on Draco's hips in a clear signal that it was time. Nodding, Draco conjured some oil, slicked up his shaft, and pressed into Harry's divine warmth.

The two of them kissed as Draco went farther and farther. He didn't need to go quite as slowly, but it still seemed to take him a few long moments to bottom out. He inhaled a small gasp of appreciation, absolutely loving how Harry felt on his shaft. Then he selected a steady pace that he could maintain all night if he wanted. With a continual stream of hot and wet kisses, Draco gave Harry exactly what he'd said he wanted – shagging until he reached an earth shattering climax and passed out from sheer exhaustion.

In his sleep, Harry snuggled up to Draco and held him close. Both enjoyed peaceful sleep, but at some point during the night, they rolled apart in search of a little coolness. But even then, they unknowingly held hands for a while.

When morning – actually almost noon – arrived, Harry woke up to find his bed empty and Draco gone. He pressed a hand to his cheek where he felt a strange tingle. A mental image of Draco kissing him goodbye played in his head. He sighed a bit morosely.

Yes, Draco had said that it would only be a night, and yes that was exactly what Harry had wanted, but at the moment, he sincerely wished he could do it again soon. Not to mention as often as possible. It had been – hands down – _the best_ shag of his life. Yawning and vocalizing rather loudly, Harry stretched and slipped out of bed. As much as he'd love to linger in the warmth and scent of the bed, his body was insistent that he needed to visit the loo and feed it something to replace all that energy he'd used so vigorously. Humming softly, Harry went about his day.

 

***

 

Around six months later, Harry was having a bad day. He stomped into a loo that was usually empty – being tucked into a corner of the Ministry that only someone who had worked there long enough to explore could find. It was actually intended for the higher ups to use, and so was fairly posh, but there weren't any sort of restrictions on it.

Even if there were, Harry doubted anyone would have the bollocks to tell him to go elsewhere. In any case, it was where he went whenever he needed some time alone. Thus – because there was almost never anyone else in there, he slammed the door shut and roared in frustration, grateful that all the loos were charmed to prevent noise from escaping.

To his surprise, there was a man standing in front of the urinal. He looked over his shoulder at Harry in a combination of curiosity and wariness. Obviously, being jumped by a madman while having a slash was not desirable at all.

“Potter?”

“ _Malfoy_ ...” Harry exhaled in vexation. _Of course_ he would be the one sodding bloke in all of creation to witness Harry at his worst. “What are you doing here?”

Draco gave Harry a sarcastic look and flung his free hand out to indicate the obvious. He then finished up and used the bidet to rinse off before casting a drying spell and putting himself away. Then he turned to face Harry.

“Problem?”

This erased all concern for social expectations from Harry's mind, making him roar again and throw his hands out. “YES! First, I was called in at _three in the morning_ to join in on a raid. So once we were geared up and ready to go, I was told to stay back and keep an eye on the rookies so that they didn't get themselves hexed to death! Which I did. This indirectly resulted in the group of criminals we were trying to apprehend mistaking the Deputy Head Auror for me – because that's where I was supposed to be standing according to our super secret raid formations – which means someone leaked that to the criminals! In any case, they had a trap set for me, which caught and killed the Deputy Head in my place, and if _that's_ not bad enough, I just spent the last _four hours_ being yelled at by department heads for not being where I was supposed to be because we all know that my shields could have withstood the trap – thus they're implying that Dawlish's death is _my fault_!!! But I was just following orders! What in the buggering hell was I supposed to do?!”

As he shouted this, Harry repeatedly punched his fist into the wall to emphasize his main points. He had almost forgotten that Draco was there, he was that lost in his emotions. He tore at his hair and faced the ceiling as he screamed rather hoarsely in an attempt to purge all his rage.

Draco had always known how to read people. As a boy, he'd use this skill to wind them up and hurt them, but these days, he was dedicated to helping others find peace. So, he utterly astonished Harry when he slowly wrapped his arms around Harry's chest and held him tight. For one insane moment, Harry thought he had to defend himself and his magic sparked as it gathered to do just that, but then he realized that Draco was hugging him. He melted, slumping onto Draco and using him as a rock as he simply breathed and let his mind go blank.

“It wasn't your fault,” Draco murmured very softly as he rubbed one hand up and down Harry's back. His other maintained a firm pressure, holding Harry in place.

“I know,” Harry murmured softly. “I just can't help but wonder if they're right.”

Rather than say anything, Draco decided that what Harry really needed was to not think for a while. To reset his mind so that when he did think again, he could have a different perspective. So, Draco shifted them both until Harry was supported by a wall and Draco was on his knees unfastening Harry's trousers.

Harry's first thought was disbelief that Draco thought he was even remotely in the mood. His second thought was that it had been a while since he'd last had anything other than his hand on him and that he really needed a good orgasm. After that, he realized that a blowjob really would be a good way to get his mind off his problems for a few minutes. He ran a hand through Draco's silky white blond hair and hummed softly at how nice it felt.

Draco quickly freed Harry's shaft and took it in hand. A few tugs had it firm up more than enough to lick and probe with his tongue. He took his time and teased Harry more than anything. His goal wasn't to get Harry off but rather to give him something interesting to focus on.

Harry moaned and watched every second of Draco licking him like an ice lolly. Each time he swirled his tongue around the bulbous glans, Harry gasped softly and unconsciously thrust forward just a bit in a silent demand for Draco to suck on him. Which Draco sort of did by taking the entire head in his mouth and pulling off slowly – the sight of which made Harry's toes curl and pulled a longing groan from his mouth.

When Harry felt like every nerve in his body was focused on what was happening, he lost all patience. “I need you inside me now!”

“Right here?” Draco asked in amusement. It was one thing if someone walked in to find Harry getting a blowjob – that could be explained as anyone (even Draco) just wanting to thank Harry for defeating Voldemort. But if someone walked in to find Harry taking it up the arse from a former Death Eater, that could cause an enormous scandal that would end very badly.

“Come on,” Harry beckoned as he awkwardly walked into a stall, holding up his trousers until he could let them drop and lean forward to brace himself against the wall. This meant that he was looking down at a toilet, but since it was kept in pristine condition, it wasn't particularly a deterrent.

“Mmm...” Draco moaned softly in appreciation. “Well, if you insist...”

“I do, Malfoy. Come over here and bugger me good and hard. Make me forget my name.”

Not willing to turn that offer down for love nor money, Draco stepped into the stall and shut the door. Then he hastily opened his trousers and freed his eager and leaking shaft. A quick series of spells had Harry fully prepared and Draco slicked up and ready to go. He pushed into Harry gently at first, wanting to savor the experience. Soon enough, he was buried about half way, which was plenty to start with. He rocked in and out, working his way ever deeper even as he moaned and loved every second of friction. Harry continually pushed backward, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Yes! Oh God yes! Merlin, fuck! Harder! Fuck! _Yes!_ ” Harry cried out, babbling incoherently.

Draco normally liked to be rather quiet and in control when he was topping someone, but he couldn't help but grunt and groan with almost every thrust. “Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!” Harry felt like heaven and it was having a seriously detrimental effect on Draco's stamina.

Even so, they lasted quite a while. Long enough for the Head of the DMLE to come looking for Harry, figure out what was going on, have a leisurely slash, wash his hands, dry them, and leave again. His business wasn't urgent and could wait.

When Harry's orgasm finally arrived, it hit him with the force of a hurricane, making him cry out obscenely and cover the pristine toilet with globs of spunk. This sent shockwaves up Draco's spine, triggering his climax too. He was surprised because it was rare for him to lose control so completely while topping. He roared softly in triumph as he pumped Harry full, resting his head on Harry's back when he was done.

To be honest, he was trained to and thus used to remaining hard and continuing on, but he also sensed that Harry was utterly wrung out and in no condition to keep going. In fact, he seemed like he might actually be off in subspace at the moment. Draco knew that it was his responsibility as a good Dom to take care of Harry. He gently pulled free, shifted Harry so that he had his back braced against the wall of the stall, and then held him steady in silence until Harry came back to himself. He also lightly ran his hands through Harry's hair and stroked his cheeks from time to time as a way to let Harry know that he wasn't alone and was safe.

It didn't take long – which was surprising. Normally, it took at least a half an hour or longer for a person to return from a trip to subspace, but (probably) since they hadn't really being doing anything to send Harry there – no pain or bondage or sensory deprivation – it was the result of a simple emotional release and so (in Draco's opinion) took far less time to process.

Harry's eyes went from dull and rather far away to sharp and in focus so abruptly that Draco might have yelped in surprise had he not had years of experience caring for submissives in this state.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Harry murmured, not fully understanding what had happened. All he really knew was that he'd had a fantastic orgasm followed by the feeling of floating in nothingness for a few moments followed by a sort of waking up. He smiled warmly at Draco and gave him a kiss. “You never did tell me what you're doing here.”

Draco shrugged. “I had a meeting with my family solicitors. A sort of business review of the many Malfoy holdings. Nothing criminal, I assure you.”

“Is that why you're dressed to kill?” Harry asked with a mischievous smirk. As usual, Draco was wearing an expensive business suit, but this one was even more posh than usual. It appeared to be embroidered in real gold and silver thread and positively screamed that he was the Heir of an Ancient and Wealthy family that wielded vast amounts of power – both magical and political. He looked inexplicably sexy and Harry couldn't look at him enough.

Draco smirked a bit arrogantly. “Quite. Now, if you think you can stand on your own, I'd like to repair my appearance and leave.”

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded. As much as he just didn't have time in his life for a serious relationship, he had a surprising urge to invite Draco to move in with him. However, Draco'd made it abundantly clear that he wasn't interested in anything more than a one off. Or two, actually.

Harry finished first since he only needed to pull up his trousers, put himself away, and zip up. He left while Draco was still fussing over his appearance – which was probably a good thing since the Head of the DMLE was casually leaning up against a wall waiting for him.

“Good Gods Potter! I'm not entirely sure I had that kind of stamina when I was your age! Feeling better now?” But even though he asked, he didn't wait for Harry to reply. “Good! We need you to help debrief the rookies and sign off on the official report, and then you'll be able to go home for the day.”

Harry sighed in defeat. “Yes sir.” He waited for the man – who was technically his boss (the Head Auror)'s boss – to lead the way. However, he continued to stare curiously at the door to the loo for a few long moments, until Harry cleared his throat.

“Right! Come on.”

As they rounded the corner, they both succumbed to the urge to look back to see if Harry's lover had emerged from the loo yet, but he hadn't. Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved that this was remaining a secret, or upset that it wasn't being plastered all over the Daily Prophet for everyone to read. After all, if there was a rumor that the two of them were together, maybe Draco would consider it. Or something like that. With a sigh, Harry returned to his job.

 

***

 

“I FUCKING QUIT!” Harry roared as he tossed a balled up wad of paper at Robards – the Head Auror.

“Harry...” Robards murmured soothingly. “You know I don't give a crup's arse what anyone else thinks. You do your job well and are on the fast track to becoming Deputy Head Auror in just a couple of years.”

“Yeah? Well what if I don't want to?!” Harry cried out. “I've had it! Everyone and their Great Aunt Gertrude expects me to catch every criminal as if I could just pull them out of my arse, and when I don't, they call me the world's greatest failure! According to the Prophet, I can't find my own arse in a room full of mirrors with a location spell!”

“You know better than to read the sodding Prophet!” Robards yelled in frustration. “You also know that the Head of the DMLE has both our backs. This _will_ blow over!”

“I DON'T CARE!” Harry shouted at the top of his lungs. “ _I lost my entire team!_ ” Honestly, how was one suppose to remain calm and wait for that to blow over?

“Harry... Things like this happen, and it doesn't mean that you did anything wrong.”

Harry growled at him angrily. “I _know_ I didn't do anything wrong, but how do you think I feel knowing that the _only_ reason I survived yet _another_ trap set for me in which _everyone else died_ is simply because I am me and my magic shields me automatically?!”

This was something they had discovered in a training simulation in which Harry was led to believe that he and Ron were kidnapped and about to be tortured to death. His uncontrollable “accidental” magic kicked in and protected them. And then it continued to kick in every time Harry felt that he or someone he cared about might be in danger. The only problem was that it shielded him and about six feet all around him – which was usually enough for his entire team, unless they were spread out and doing their own jobs. On the plus side, Ron had quit the force a while back, and so, wasn't among the dead.

Robards sighed heavily. “Harry... think about what will happen if you quit and we send out teams _without_ your protection.”

“I can't think about that,” Harry murmured wearily. “It seems that my team is fated to die if I'm there or not, and if I'm not there, then there'll be no reason to try and trap me, so maybe no one else will die.”

“Harry...”

“No,” Harry stated firmly with a shake of his head. “I'm done. I quit.” He turned and walked away.

Robards let out another heavy sigh. “Fine, just know that there'll always be a job waiting here for you if you change your mind.”

Harry paused to nod in understanding before practically marching toward the rarely used loo that was his refuge in the Ministry. He _could_ have just flooed or used an Apparation point to go home, but he wanted to give himself a little time to cool down and think things through before he cemented his decision by leaving the Ministry for good. And he was absolutely certain about that; if he left the Ministry, he was not coming back.

In the loo, he had a slash, rinsed off with the bidet, and washed his hands. Then he used one of the flannels provided to wash his face and wet down his hair as a way to both figuratively and literally cool down. Just as he was running the cool cloth down the sides of his neck, Draco walked into the loo. At first, he was distracted by the contract in his hands.

“... and if we merge the two, we'll –” He cut the muttering to himself short as he looked up and saw Harry. “Potter!”

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted pleasantly enough since the last two times he'd seen Draco had been fantastic.

“It's been...”

They both pursed their lips in thought.

“About six months or so,” Harry finished. For no reason that he could determine, he realized that it was only a week before September 1 st  , and that the two of them would have been getting ready to go back to Hogwarts – _Merlin!_ Was it nine years ago already?!?! Well, ten for Harry since he skipped his last year, but still. Where had the last ten years gone?

Draco looked Harry up and down appraisingly. “You look like you need another good shag. Salazar's pungent smegma, Potter! _Please_ tell me that you've had sex since then!”

“Er...” Harry frowned, honestly not sure if he had. He had, right? Right??? Godric's pendulous bollocks! He couldn't remember! “Of course I have!”

Draco exhaled in relief. “Well, if you'd like, I'd be willing to have a quick one in the stall. But just so you know, I have to get back to my meeting soon, so I can't take all day.” Which would be a challenge. He wasn't entirely certain he'd finished in less than 20 or 30 minutes in... Fuck! Since he was still training with Geoffrey and Amethyst.

Actually, who said he had to finish?

As he walked into the stall, he magicked his paperwork into his briefcase, which he then shrunk down and shoved in a pocket. Harry followed him curiously, not having accepted the proposition yet, but also, not having declined it either. Draco made it sound like business as usual, and if he were honest, Harry really did need the quick release of a meaningless shag. Either way, he was probably going to go to a pub and get drunk and try to pull tonight. For the foreseeable future, he wanted to spend as much time as he could making up for the last few years in which he'd worked too much to have a relationship or even a friendship in which he could just show up for a few hours when he needed some sex. Thus, he'd been more or less forced to rely on super quick one offs when he had a bit of spare time and enough energy to go to a pub or a club.

This time, it was Draco who bent over the toilet in an obvious invitation. Harry smiled at him as he pulled the door shut. They were both still fully dressed, and the sight of Draco in yet another of his posh suits waiting to be debauched sent an electric thrill straight to his groin. He groaned in appreciation.

“I guess this means it's my turn,” he murmured.

“That would imply that we're taking turns,” Draco drawled a bit snidely. “Which we're not. I just happen to want to bottom today. And I'm serious about my meeting, so I'm going to set a timer for eight minutes, Potter. If you're not done by then, too bad for you.”

Merlin! Harry wasn't entirely certain that he could safely prepare Draco for entry in just eight minutes! Taking a deep breath, he reached around Draco to unfasten those soft trousers.

“I'm going to have to use quick prep spells,” Harry stated, although he was fairly sure Draco expected this.

“Of course,” Draco permitted with a nod.

Once Draco's heavenly arse was uncovered, Harry cast all the necessary spells, and then smirked impishly. He pulled a paper-thin disc from the pouch around his neck. “You're going to like this...” he murmured without explaining anything. A moment later, he probed Draco with a thick finger until he found the spot that made Draco gasp softly in pleasure. Then he slipped the disc over that spot and withdrew his fingers.

Draco inhaled a gasp of surprise. He'd never seen the thing Harry'd put inside him before, so he hadn't expected it to warm up and vibrate. He wiggled his hips to see if the disc was going to move or stay put.

Harry grinned knowingly. “It's spelled to stay right where it is until removed – a bit like a bandage.” Without any further explanation, Harry slicked up his shaft and pushed into Draco. Despite being fully open and prepared, Harry couldn't bring himself to rush things and risk hurting Draco. Even so, he didn't take a long time either. “Would you prefer a medium yet powerful pace, or fast and hard?”

“There's a time limit, moron, what do you think?” Draco asked snarkily.

“Slow and gentle it is,” Harry replied with a laugh, but rather than do exactly that, he chose the medium yet powerful pace that allowed him to really ram into Draco with each thrust. Draco grunted in surprise and shifted his hands so that he was better braced against the wall.

That disc was actually a masturbatory aid created by George and Ron after a (rather awkward) conversation in which Harry had lamented having nothing that could focus on stimulating the prostate quite as well as his fingers. Especially during those times when he just wanted to have a lazy wank before bed. Thus, the disc. It did exactly as Harry wanted, but was also designed so that it could be used during sex too, which had the benefit of stimulating both of them.

The result was a shag so hot and heavy that they both felt dead certain that they were going to burn up from it. Draco burst out with a long string of babbled non-magical curses that went something like: “Fuck, oh fucking fucking fuck me fucking fuck!” Whereas Harry's was more like: “Oh God, oh God, oh fuck, fucking God, oh my God, fuck yeah!”

In just about five minutes flat, they were both hit with an orgasm that was like a punch to the gut. Draco pushed back onto Harry even more, resting his forehead on the top of the toilet tank as he squealed – once more astonished that sex with Harry had the power to affect him so much. Harry dug his fingers into Draco's hips so hard that they were sure to leave bruises as he threw back his head and roared a bit like a lion.

As they slumped together and panted to catch their breath, they heard the urinal flush and a man whisper: “Is there a potion that lets you have sex as good as that sounded?”

Another whisper replied: “I don't know, but if there is, I want some.”

“Fuck!” Draco exclaimed in a whisper so soft that Harry almost didn't hear it despite having his head resting on Draco's back. He shifted so that he could kiss Draco on the cheek and whisper. “Don't worry, I've got this.”

After pulling up his trousers and putting himself away, Harry emerged from the stall as bold as brass and glared at the men as he blocked Draco from view. It just so happened to be the Head of the International Magical Office of Law and the Head of the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats. They both recognized Harry immediately and paled almost comically.

“Mr. Potter!”

“Gentlemen,” Harry greeted pleasantly enough. “I'd appreciate it if you finished your business and left.”

“Now see here, this facility is intended for Department Heads, thus we have more right to be here than you do!” The more portly of the two protested.

“Do you really want to anger Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World?” The more timid man asked in a murmur.

“I'm just standing up for our rights,” the Head of the IMLO stated defensively.

“I'm not saying you can't use this loo,” Harry interjected. “I just want to protect my lover from nosy busy bodies.”

“Nosy?! NOW SEE HERE!” IMLO roared in outrage, but ICOW, BS hissed and dragged IMLO out of the room since they actually were finished with their business.

“He's friends with the Minister, remember? If he complained, the Minister might feel inclined to oversee our departments a bit more closely!”

This actually made IMLO deflate rather noticeably. “Er, right...” They left with all due haste.

“Hmm...” Harry hummed in thought. “Perhaps I _should_ go have a talk with Kingsley...”

Draco laughed. “If you do, can you please wait until after my meeting? I might just have to hint that I know things the Head of the International Magical Law Office wouldn't want the Minister to find out, and see what happens.”

“Slytherin,” Harry accused with an amused chuckle.

Draco simply preened as he finished fixing his appearance.

“So... fancy coming over to my place this weekend?” Harry asked, deciding that there wasn't a good reason not to.

Draco gave him an impatient look and sighed. “I told you, I'm not looking for any sort of relationship.”

Harry shook his head. “I'm not either. That's not what this is. I just, er, well, I just blew up my entire life, and so I need time to figure out what I'm supposed to do now. I won't be ready for a serious relationship until I do. In the meantime, shagging you is utterly fantastic and I'd like to do it again. Properly. In a bed.”

Draco studied Harry for clues for a long moment before slowly nodding his head. “Alright. I'd be amenable to another night in bed with you. Just so long as you understand that's all it is.”

Harry chuckled wryly. “You make it sound like I'm just dying to date you!”

Understanding instantly that this was more a joke than not, Draco decided to play along. He gestured to his body and scoffed. “Of course you are! I mean honestly! Have you seen me?”

“Mmm,” Harry moaned in approval. Leering eyes roaming said fully clothed body quite freely. “Not nearly enough.”

Draco harrumphed a laugh, but before he could respond, his alarm charm went off. “Sorry, time's up! I'll see you this weekend.”

“I look forward to it, and Malfoy?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't worry about that disc, it won't activate again until you touch it. Probably. I'll remove it for you once you're in my bed. If you want.”

Draco bit his lip and thought about some of the possible consequences of the disc activating while he was in his meeting. The problem was that he couldn't decide if he wanted it to happen or not. Raising a brow, he gave Harry a light glare.

“If it does, I'm hexing you into next week, Potter! I have serious business I need to focus on!”

Harry was definitely curious. “Oh yeah? What sort of business?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime.” Without another word, he turned to leave the loo.

Harry hastily leapt in front of him. “Hang on a tic!” He carefully opened the door and looked out, turning his head as needed to look up and down the corridor. Finding it empty, he turned back to Draco and stole a swift kiss. “All clear!”

Smiling despite himself, Draco left the loo and returned to his very important business meeting.

 

***

 

That weekend was rather confusing for Harry because Draco showed up as promised, worshiped Harry's body for hours like it was a God incarnate, and then left again while Harry was sleeping. Yes, Harry _knew_ that he wasn't ready for a relationship – and that Draco seemed determined to avoid one at all costs – but they'd just had something that felt a _lot_ like making love. Hot, yes. Passionate, yes. Energetic and at times rather rough, but still...

Maybe Harry really _wasn't_ able to have casual sex without his heart getting involved...

 

***

 

Harry hummed as he sanded the chair he was working on. In perhaps _the most_ insane moment of his life, not too long after quitting his job as an Auror, Harry'd been shopping in a furniture store one day and had been stuck by a thought that resembled something along the lines of: _Huh, I bet I could do that._ And so, he gave it a try.

His first project – a wooden bench – wasn't fit for anything other than straddling as he worked in his shop. Even so, it had been fun and more than a little thrilling to create something with his own two hands. So he tried again. And again. And now, after almost an entire year, he was rather good at what he did.

He not only made a piece of furniture from scratch – using both muggle and magical supplies – but he _also_ layered it with spells common to wizarding furniture. Such as fire resistance. And automatic lightening when needing to be moved. Not to mention other charms that increased comfort. After quite a bit of practice, Harry'd figured out how to make his chairs adjust to the exact preferences of whoever sat in it. Some liked taller backs, and some liked firm lumbar support. Others liked extra cushioning. All of which was built into the charm.

So far, he'd made an average of one piece of furniture a week and sold it via word of mouth. It wasn't an enormous income – hell! It wasn't even a good income! But Harry didn't actually need money, so he didn't care that he could probably charge a whole lot more for things hand made by the “Savior.” People tended to send him a lot of things he'd never ask for anyway. Designer clothes and shoes, homemade food – most of which was actually not spiked with love potions or poisons (which he was very good at detecting by this point) – and thousands upon thousands of letters wishing him well and promising to help him out in any way he needed. He was even sent money fairly frequently, but he usually donated that to charity.

All in all, life was good. He was happy in a general sense and felt fulfilled by his chosen job, which was something that he honestly couldn't say about his time as an Auror. The only thing missing was love.

Yes, Harry was ready to fall in love. Or perhaps admit that he might actually be in love already. He just... couldn't risk ruining the good thing he had going until he knew for certain.

Approximately once a month, Draco owled an invitation to meet up for drinks at the muggle pub Harry'd first taken him to. Considering that Harry'd realized that he might not be so good at casual sex after all, he'd never once owled Draco. That said, he also couldn't bring himself to turn Draco down either, instead, existing in a sort of limbo when it came to what the fuck he and Draco were doing.

Those invitations always ended with Draco spending the night at Harry's. And those nights always ended with Draco leaving before Harry woke up. It was confusing every bit as much as it felt necessary to Harry's soul. So, he decided to just accept what Draco gave him and never ask for anything more.

Only, now he was ready for more...

Just as Harry was blowing the last of the finely powdered dust from his sanding of the chair away, an owl arrived. He grinned at her, even going so far as to kiss her when she demanded his attention by rubbing her head against his cheek.

“Hi Mel. Got a note from Draco?”

Since this was Draco's personal owl – named Melisande – Harry was dead certain he was right. He spelled his hands clean and retrieved the note tied to her leg – giving her more kisses and petting her in the process. She hooted and returned his affection in equal measure.

_Potter, drinks?_

Well that was an extremely short note! Harry wondered if he could beat it in the return note. After some thought, he replied: _STSP._

He figured that it would be obvious – based on _all_ of their previous notes to each other – that Harry was agreeing to meet at the same time and place as usual. Later that night, after he'd cleaned up a bit and gotten just slightly dressed up, he discovered that he was right. Wearing a pair of black trousers with a dark green jumper, he walked up to the table Draco was sitting at. He'd already ordered several rounds of ale for both of them and looked almost broody.

Harry sat down and grabbed a bottle. “Problem?”

Draco shook his head and shrugged. “Not really. I just haven't been able to solve a puzzle, and that irks me.”

“What sort of puzzle?” Harry wondered. He was frankly dying of curiosity because Draco _never_ talked about himself. He'd mention business meetings on occasion, and had once or twice told Harry an anecdote involving his friends, but other than that nope. Nothing. To be fair, they didn't really talk about Harry either. Their conversations usually revolved around Quidditch and what they thought about the most random of things – such as books they'd read, movies Harry'd seen, and the exact purpose of rubber ducks.

Draco bit his lip and took a slow breath in as he thought about what to say. “Well... It's like this. Remember how I once told you I'd found a way to give back?”

“Yeah,” Harry prompted.

“I do so by reading people and giving them what they need – even when they don't know what that is,” Draco explained.

“Like... you buy them new televisions and pay off their cars?” Harry asked, not quite able to picture Draco as a real life Santa Claus.

“Sure Potter,” Draco replied in amusement. Then he shrugged. “In any case, there's a man that I just can't read. I've tried everything I can think of so far, but nothing has truly worked. I'm running out of ideas!”

Harry laughed. “Maybe he just likes you buying loads of stuff for him!”

Draco gaped at Harry in astonishment for a moment. “You might be right!” Not about the buying stuff, but attention in general.

Most people needed something specific – such as when Draco had once needed to be anyone other than himself. Which was actually fairly common. Lots of people just needed to get out of their head for a bit. Nearly everyone he worked with had a deep seated desire to be useful to others in some way, but this man hadn't responded to any of that. He hadn't seemed to need _anything_ , but he kept coming back to Draco. Not once had Draco thought that maybe he just needed attention in general. That would explain so much, and gave Draco some ideas on what to try.

“Thanks Potter, that actually helps!”

Harry chuckled as he held up his bottle in a salute. “Glad to be of service.” Then he frowned and bit his lip in thought. “If you read people and give them what they need, maybe you can help me.”

“With what?” Draco inquired, a brow raised in wary interest.

Harry took a moment to sort through his thoughts, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't gotten drunk yet. He _knew_ that Draco would shut him down if he was direct, so he decided to try a circuitous route. “Erm... well, I was thinking that maybe it's time to settle down with Ginny. I'm finally ready for a relationship. That said, I'm not sure she is and – if she isn't – should I wait for her? Or should I just move on?”

“Ginny hmm...?” Draco murmured softly, thinking this over. If he suspected that Harry was really talking about him, he didn't let on. He sat back in his chair and stroked his chin. “Personally, I'm never going to want a relationship. I'm fulfilled with what I do – far more than I would be if I settled down with a wife and had children. Maybe Ginny feels the same about her career. Maybe it fulfills her in a way that nothing else can. That said, I haven't talked with her since Hogwarts, so I could be wrong. Maybe she wants or needs _both_ – her career and a family – in order to be happy. The only way you'll know for certain is to ask her.”

Harry felt depressed all of a sudden. “Alright. So, if she says that she's not ready yet and may never be, should I wait or move on.”

“Harry,” Draco said, which wasn't the first time he'd used Harry's name, but it was rare and usually thrown out sarcastically, which this wasn't. “The only thing you have to worry about is your own happiness. I once saw you scream in a Ministry loo and could have told you then that you were in the wrong career, but that was something you needed to figure out for yourself. If you talk to Ginny and she tells you that she's not ready to settle down, then don't wait for her if it doesn't make you happy. Go out and find someone else.”

Harry sighed morosely. “But what if no one else can make me happy like h- her?”

Draco laughed and shook his head. “If you are happy with your life in general while you are alone, then you can be happy with anyone you deem worth your time. If you're not, then it doesn't matter _who_ you choose, you're never going to be happy with them.”

“That sounds... rather zen, Malfoy. I didn't think you had that in you,” Harry murmured in surprise.

Draco laughed outright. “If you only knew who I was deep down inside, you'd keel over in shock!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I doubt it.” Then he shook his head and waved his hand as if it helped him remember what he wanted to say. “But wait! I don't quite understand something. Does this Santa Claus thing of yours _really_ fulfill you more than _love_? I mean, don't you want to fall in love some day?”

“I'm already in love,” Draco murmured softly, his voice so tender that it nearly broke Harry's heart.

“Oh? With who?” He asked, his voice oddly choosing that time to squeak like he hadn't done since he emerged from the other side of puberty.

“With my life. With who I am and what I do, and I'm not referring to being a Malfoy that invests in several businesses.”

Harry didn't quite know how to respond to that. Or hell! What to _think_ about it. After a long pause, he tried again. “Alright, but what if you met someone? Say Astoria returned from her travels and suddenly she seems like the best thing since wands were invented. What then?”

Draco grinned. “If that happened, I'd give up everything for her. But that's never going to happen because,” his grin fell rather suddenly as he frowned and hummed in thought. “Actually, no, I wouldn't give up everything. I just realized that if I'm going to be happy as a person, I need someone who can accept me for who I really am. Thus, even if she suddenly held my heart in her hands and I'd _die_ for her, I wouldn't be with her if she asked me to give up my... Santa complex...” he finished with a wry smirk.

Harry felt more confused than ever. “Why would she ask you to give up that?”

“As I told you the first time we went drinking, it's not only time consuming, but it takes up a lot of my concentration,” Draco explained. “I imagine that if I got married, my wife would feel like she was never quite important enough. Much like a woman might feel if she knew her husband had a whole other life and family with another woman.” He shrugged, not knowing how to make Harry understand without explaining all the finer points of Dom/Sub relationships – which he didn't want to do because what he currently had with Harry was nice enough that he didn't want to drive Harry away.

“Alright...” Harry accepted reluctantly. It seemed that his biggest obstacles were the fact that Draco was already in love – of a sort – and somehow _proving_ that he accepted Draco for who he was despite never being allowed to actually get to know that person.

“Finish up your drink,” Draco commanded as if he expected Harry to obey that second. “I want to go back to your place now.”

“Alright...” Harry murmured, and then downed the last of the liquid in his bottle. The rest of the unopened bottles were surreptitiously shrunk down and slipped into Draco's inner breast pocket – since he'd already paid for them but didn't want to take the time to drink them right now. As usual, he was wearing a well tailored suit – only this one was casual and in a shade of gray that nearly matched his eyes.

Once back at Harry's, Draco took the lead. To a point. “I want to bottom tonight. I also want you to strip me off and kiss each part of my body as you do so.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked with interest. Funnily enough, even though Draco had once said that they weren't going to take turns bottoming, they actually did almost equally. It was strange in that Draco almost seemed insistent that they be equal. Equals. Neither having power over the other. If Harry spent a night worshiping every part of Draco with his tongue, then Draco'd either return the favor that same night, or the next time they met up. Most often, they made love twice each night they spent together – as if it was important that both of them had their needs met. As if balance needed to be maintained. It was just one of the many things that confused Harry about Draco – not that he was complaining because it usually meant they both had two orgasms.

Harry found it strangely satisfying to make Draco's toes curl using only his tongue and a few ticklish spots. It didn't take long for Draco to insist that Harry shag him already. He purposely took as long as possible preparing Draco for entry – just to be a tease. But the moment he was buried deep, his own need took over and prompted him to choose a demanding pace that rocked the entire bed. Had it been less sturdy – or perhaps slightly closer to the wall – it probably would have made a banging racket.

Harry pumped Draco full with a breathless exhalation. If he lived to be a hundred, he doubted he'd ever feel anything better. Well, aside from those times when Draco pumped him full as he squirted all over everything. Speaking of, as usual, Draco was still ready to go, despite the abundant evidence that he'd ejaculated too.

Harry purred as Draco reversed their positions. With Harry on his back with his legs spread wide, there was no reason to waste time. Harry kissed him as Draco worked him open. He was highly tempted to confess that the ability to keep going was just one of the many things that Harry loved about him, but he already knew that that would not go over very well.

Even now – after having done this at least a dozen or so times – Draco's stamina was awe inspiring to Harry. They never failed to utterly exhaust each other – although it did usually take Harry ten or fifteen minutes for his erection to recover. Then when it did, he couldn't touch it at all until Draco was nearing the end, otherwise he'd orgasm again and half pass out while Draco finished. Which he didn't mind but wasn't so fun for Draco.

After their climax hit them, Harry purred unconsciously and held Draco close. They both drifted off fairly quickly. Harry just barely kept a grip on his consciousness long enough to give Draco a happy kiss.

In the morning, Harry kept his eyes squeezed shut and swept his arm out to the other side of the bed, praying that Draco had stayed, just this once. But nope. He was gone like always. Feeling his heart clench painfully, Harry grabbed the pillow that smelled like Draco and pressed his face into it as he vowed _not_ to cry – refusing to acknowledge that the pillow grew slightly damp. After twenty or so minutes, he finally felt ready to get up and go about his day.

 

***

 

_Drinks?_

Harry sighed as he stroked Melisande's head. He was tempted to keep the gorgeous eagle owl, but knew that she was loyal to her owner. The few times he'd grumbled about Draco in her presence, she'd bit him hard enough to draw blood.

“This'll take me a few minutes,” he informed her as he sat down to write a response.

 _Dear Draco_ – Harry scratched that out and grabbed a clean sheet of paper.

_Malfoy, I'm sorry but I can't meet up with you tonight. I'm just about to leave for a date. I'm actually seeing a muggle woman. We're not completely serious yet – it's still too soon for that – but I think it's headed in that direction. Maybe the next time you want to have drinks with me, I'll bring her with so that you can meet her. I think you'd like her. She's stunning! She has blonde hair and blue eyes so bright that they look like jewels. She's also the daughter of an Earl, so you have posh breeding in common with her. I've never known anyone other than you that wore such expensive clothes like she does. Really, I think you two would get on like a house on fire. Anyway, I have to go. Owl me later if you want to know how my date went. Hoping you are well, Harry Potter_

After Melisande left, Harry finished dressing for his date and left. He and Cherie met up at a muggle club that specialized in ballroom dancing – which she was teaching him. They danced for several hours before deciding that dinner was necessary. At the end of the night, Harry walked her the short distance to her expensive flat in the richest neighborhood in London.

As was expected of him, he kissed her for many long minutes, but didn't try anything more. She'd made it clear that she wanted to get to know him better before bringing him to her bed, and Harry wasn't particularly starved for sex, so this didn't bother him. In fact, it aligned with his own need to do exactly the same – figure out if she was someone he could spend his life with – before getting serious enough to take that step. They'd only just met a week ago, after all.

They'd both gone to the same estate auction. Harry'd read in an advert that centuries worth of furniture and other treasure was going to be sold off – along with the large mansion – to pay off a nearly unfathomable debt. He'd been curious to see how furniture had changed over the years and if there was anything special about the oldest pieces that made them last. A beautiful yet sturdy fainting couch had caught his eye and he'd bid on it – getting into a minor war with Cherie over it until he had to give up. He just couldn't justify spending so very much on a single piece of furniture!

On the plus side, he'd won a desk that was rumored to have secret compartments that no one had been able to find in over a century. Not to mention Cherie. He'd won her interest and they'd spent _hours_ chatting before agreeing to go on a date. Which had led to him meeting up with her every night since then for dancing and some rather romantic strolls through moonlit London.

Harry broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “Until tomorrow.”

“I can't wait,” Cherie murmured in return, giving him one last kiss.

When he reached the nearest spot with enough privacy, he Apparated home. To his disappointment – and a strange pain in his heart – there was no letter from Draco. Worse, more than three months passed with no word from him. Feeling something close to grief, Harry admitted to himself that his brief interlude with Draco had finally reached its foregone conclusion.

 

***

 

Cherie rested her head on Harry's shoulder and purred. They were still lingering in bed even though it was about halfway to noon. Harry ran his hand up and down her arm, loving how soft and silky her skin was.

“I think we should do something different tonight,” Cherie announced rather unexpectedly.

“Oh?” Harry asked with interest. “Like what?”

“Have you ever been to a sex club?”

“A _what?_ ” Harry spluttered.

Cherie laughed and sat up to look him in the eyes. “I'm serious. I know of a club where otherwise normal people like you and me can explore their sexuality in a safe and completely consensual way. For example, I like to be tied up and left to 'suffer' for a while before someone has sex with me.”

Harry raised a brow. “You mean you don't _always_ require a dozen dates first?” His tone was playful and he was clearly teasing her.

She rolled her eyes and kissed him. “Not when I'm just playing. I told you, I let you into my life rather slowly so that I could be sure that you weren't just using me for all of this.” She gestured around to indicate her obviously expensive and lavishly decorated home.

Harry returned her kiss, tugging her back onto his shoulder. “I know that I haven't brought you to my home yet,” he'd explained that it was an old family home that he literally _couldn't_ bring her to unless they got engaged. She'd been understandably confused, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. “But I honestly do have money of my own. I wouldn't even need to work if I didn't want to, but I find it fulfilling.”

She stroked his hands with one of hers. “Making furniture. I'd love it if you made something for me.”

He smiled at her, purposely not saying anything because he didn't want to spoil the surprise that he already was. “Anyway, this wealth of yours doesn't really impress me. It would have as a kid – I grew up in a middle class family before, er... inheriting my fortune...”

Cherie tilted her head and gave him a curious frown.

Harry took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “I was orphaned as a baby. My mother's sister raised me. It wasn't until I was 11 that I even learned that my father came from money. My aunt and uncle rather led me to believe that he was a good for nothing wastrel.” Harry shrugged, not really wanting to saying more on the subject at the moment.

“That's horrible!” Cherie exclaimed in sympathy. “My parents are still very much alive, but I can't remember the last time they spoke to each other. They separated practically the moment my younger sister turned 18 and they no longer needed to keep up appearances. Perhaps ironically, they're both such good actors that I honestly had no idea how much they hated each other until that moment. I grew up thinking that my family was a little lacking in warmth, sure, but only because that was how proper families were. They were always attentive and devoted to us, so I suppose I just never wanted to see beyond the facade they created for us.”

“I can't decide which is worse; not having parents, or having parents who hate each other that much,” Harry murmured.

“Not having them,” Cherie stated decisively. “After all, I had a fairly happy childhood despite them. I sense you had the opposite.”

Harry nodded but didn't go into details. He already trusted her enough to tell her everything, but he couldn't until he was dead certain that she was the one he wanted to marry. It wasn't _all_ because of the statute of secrecy either. He just couldn't bring himself to let her fall in love with magic – or him because of his magic – if he wasn't sure she'd get to keep the memories after they split up. It just seemed cruel.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Cherie interrupted his thoughts. “Yes or no to the sex club?”

Harry gave her a funny look. “Aren't we trying to be in a committed relationship?”

“Yes, but that doesn't mean that we can't play around with others _together_ ,” she informed him. “But just because we go to the club, doesn't mean we have to have sex with others. I want you to see me tied up. I want you to learn how to do it correctly. I also wouldn't mind seeing you tied up.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, inexplicably interested. He'd never actually done that before, except for in the occasional wank fantasy.

“Please don't let this scare you off, but I dreamt last night that you were tied up in a Karada Harness with an Elbow Harness, or maybe it was a Takate Kote – either way, you couldn't move your arms. You were also on your knees and men were 'forcing' you to orally please them.”

“Oh really???” Harry asked with definite interest, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

“I thought that maybe – if you're even a little sexually open – you might be interested in trying that,” Cherie murmured, not quite looking at him because she was still a little ashamed of her own sexuality. She'd been raised to believe that a good girl waited to have sex until they were married, and then never had interest in anything her husband didn't teach her. Then she'd met someone who opened her mind and liberated her. Even so, the childhood belief would pop up at some of the most inconvenient times. Such as now.

“Did I tell you that I'm bisexual?” Harry asked, honestly not able to remember if he had. Since this was one of their first conversations about sex – other than the responsible stuff leading up to their first time – he actually hadn't.

“You are?” Cherie asked with a look like Christmas had just arrived early. “Me too! My biggest dream at the moment is that I'll find the right man to get married to and together, we'll have a girlfriend. Maybe two.”

“Wait, so you're saying that if we got married, I'd _still_ be looking for a girlfriend?” Harry asked, mildly torn between dismay at the prospect and interest.

“Well, _we_ would be looking,” Cherie replied with a shrug. She then kissed Harry, which he returned.

After quite a while of lazy kissing, Harry pulled back with a grin. “So... if we went to this sex club, you'd have me tied up and 'forced' to orally please any man who wanted it?”

“Yes.”

“And what if one of them wanted to shag me?” Harry half whispered because this was a whole other ball of wax.

Cherie shook her head, sensing that this might be a deal breaker. “You'll never actually be forced to do anything you don't want. If you _did_ want to be shagged, then you can consent, and I'll eagerly watch, but if you say no, they won't even try. The club has excellent security – otherwise more than half the patrons would stop coming. _No one_ wants a bad experience.”

Harry bit his lip in thought. “I... I have only let one person top me. Everyone else I've ever been with, I top. It's a hard limit.”

Cherie stroked his cheek. “As I said, if you don't want it, it won't happen.” She gave him a soft kiss. “Who was that one person?”

“Someone I really thought I loved,” Harry admitted in a soft voice. “But he... well, he didn't love me back.”

Cherie purred in sympathy. “And if he did?”

“I'd probably jump at the chance to be with him,” Harry confessed, feeling guilty.

Cherie nodded in understanding. “We've all had a first love. Mine was...” she took a deep breath, and then sighed. “You'll probably find this sick, but since my father is an Earl, I grew up knowing all the nobles. There was one older Lord in particular that I really thought I'd marry when I turned 18. I loved him with everything I had, and he... I think he was just taking advantage of my feelings for him. Don't get me wrong, he was always attentive to me. Gentle. Never mean or violent, but...” she shrugged. “He died when I was still 17 and I found out that he had recently updated his will to leave everything he owned to a distant cousin – his only remaining family. Now when I look back on it, it makes sense, but at the time, I felt like he had slapped me in the face. I thought _we_ were family, but clearly he didn't feel the same.”

“Maybe the cousin bribed him to change the will and then had him killed,” the residual Auror in Harry suggested.

“Ha,” Cherie laughed. “You were probably joking, but I'd wondered that myself. No proof though.”

Deciding to return to the subject at hand, Harry asked: “So how do you see this working? Our relationship, I mean, if we decide to go to a sex club and play around.”

For the rest of the morning, they discussed every aspect of being in a committed relationship with permission to play around from time to time. By the time they were ready to go to the club, Harry was quite looking forward to it. The idea of being tied up and used had taken hold of him and refused to let go.

Cherie had them both dress up as if they were going to a fancy dinner – which meant more than casual attire but not quite formal wear. They entered a building that – from all outward appearances – catered to a wealthier clientele. Harry would learn later that if a couple (usually, but on occasion a single person) applied for membership and didn't have the hefty fee, they could still be approved if they clearly belonged to the lifestyle, so it wasn't restricted to money so much as dedication.

“This is the main area where most people grab a few drinks and relax for a while before diving in,” Cherie explained. “As you can see, everyone is still wearing clothes, and that's because people often walk in off the street, mistaking this for a nightclub or restaurant. If all you saw was this room, you'd probably think the same.”

With a knowing smirk, Cherie led him to a door that said: **Members Only**

“Back here is a communal lounge. It's a place intended for members to get undressed – or change into a costume if they so desire. This is my locker, but as you can see, it's more like a small closet.” She unlocked her locker and opened it to reveal about a dozen costumes and various accessories. She held up a white suit of sorts that would literally cover her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. “When I want total anonymity, I dress in this, but most of the time, I prefer to go naked except for a rope harness. I'll show you.”

She beckoned to an attendant, who came over and took hold of the coil of rope she held out. It was 10 meters long, which seemed rather excessive to Harry. However, it was somewhat thin at 6mm, which Harry figured meant that it might be designed for comfort. He couldn't imagine being tied up by a rope three or four times as thick.

“I'd like a simple [Karada Dress](https://www.theduchy.com/karada/), please,” Cherie informed the attendant as she stripped off. She'd come prepared by not wearing any garments under her shimmering blue gown.

“Of course,” the attendant murmured. He started by forming a loop at the halfway point of the rope. He then placed the loop between her shoulder blades so that the two sides of the rope draped over her shoulders and down her front. Next, he created a knot right about level with her collar bone and every three inches or so down her front with both sides of the rope. The fifth knot was level with her womanhood and was a loose double knot that resembled a figure eight.

So far, Harry was not only fascinated, but felt that this should be easy enough to remember for future use. Cherie spread her legs apart slightly to give the attendant room, which he took advantage of by wiggling a finger between her 'lips' for a moment – making her laugh and roll her eyes at him. Then he continued his task.

Pulling both sides of the rope through her legs, he brought it all the way up her back, forming knots as he went, and slipped it through the loop he'd started with. Then he pulled the two sides of the rope apart and wrapped them around her, slipping them through the rope in the front – between the first two knots. This formed a diamond shape. Back and forth he wrapped the rope, twisting it around itself decoratively and forming diamonds on both her front and back.

At this point, Harry felt completely lost. No step in particular seemed hard to follow, but all together, it looked confusing. He frowned and bit his lip as he mentally tried to recreate the harness. He'd probably need to be shown how a couple of times. Especially since the diamonds on the back were smaller than on the front and didn't go below the sacrum. But then the rope was tied off securely, the ends hidden somehow that Harry honestly couldn't figure out.

Cherie modeled the 'dress' proudly, strutting around the lounge so that Harry could get a good look at her from all sides. He moaned softly, already half hard just from the sight. She traipsed up to him and gave him a kiss.

“Your turn?”

“Hmm...” Harry hummed in thought. “Exactly like that?”

“Yes, but I want him to add an Elbow Harness so that your arms are restrained,” Cherie reminded him.

Very slowly, Harry nodded his head. He wanted to try it, but he was also a little scared. He'd never done anything like this before and it felt a bit like jumping into the deep in with both eyes closed and weights on his ankles. Cherie kissed him again.

“We'll need more rope,” she informed the attendant, who nodded and rushed off to grab some from a nearby supply cabinet.

In far less time than he thought possible, Harry was naked and wrapped in the Karada Harness. He stood surveying himself in a mirror as the attendant prepared a second rope for the [Elbow Harness](https://www.theduchy.com/heavy-elbow-harness/). This one was layered on top of the first one, starting with wrapping it around Harry's waist and arms – which were behind his back – several times. He couldn't see what was being done behind him, but it felt complicated. Eventually, the rope was brought up and wrapped around his chest a few times (once around the back of his neck) with more complicated things happening in the back. When it was finished, Harry was shocked to realize that he couldn't move his arms at all, but they pointed down his back, and so hopefully, wouldn't grow fatigued from an awkward position.

He was still feeling very apprehensive, but he'd come this far, so he may as well keep going. Besides, he _was_ a brave Gryffindor, was he not? Smiling just a tiny bit, he let Cherie lead him further into the club.

“This is where members can chat and conduct negotiations. There's a spa where submissives can pamper their dominants. That's a room where members who just want to be tied up and left alone for a bit can be – monitored by attendants. That's a play dungeon. There's an orgy room. That whole wall is lined with semi private rooms where couples and smaller groups can play. Down there is the whipping room.”

Cherie paused and smiled at him. “That locked door is one of only a handful that _can_ be locked. Those rooms are where the Doms and Dommes that work for the club create and fulfill fantasies for their submissive patrons. Just so you know, the submissives that work for the club have semi private rooms, but they need to be monitored by security to ensure that inexperienced dominants don't accidentally go too far and hurt or kill them. That happened once more than a decade ago and there's been top notch security ever since.”

“Er... good to know,” Harry murmured, actually feeling a little better knowing that there were people paid to be responsible and enforce the rules. “So... what if we decide we want a fantasy?”

Cherie grinned at him. “We meet with a Dom and discuss what sort of fantasy we want, and then schedule an appointment. Most of the Doms here will also walk around and choose random members when they're in the mood to do something for themselves. So, if you catch one of their eyes, they might take over. They're also sort of like upper management of the club, so if they tell others to back off, they back off!”

“Alright,” Harry murmured in acceptance.

Cherie pointed toward an area she hadn't mentioned yet – basically the exact center of the club. “Here's where we're going to be. This is the ideal spot for those who want all the members to be able to see them and join in if they want.” She beckoned to an attendant and pointed to the floor. “We need two knee cushions.” She turned back to Harry. “They have special cushions that fully support the knees, since we'll both be on them for a long time.”

Sure enough, two very weirdly shaped foam cushions were brought over. As promised, Harry was able to kneel in the grooves of the cushions and his knees were supported on all sides except the back. He and Cherie were side by side, so close that they could easily kiss whenever they wanted.

“We both want to be 'forced' to orally please anyone who wants us to,” she explained to the attendant, her hands voluntarily behind her head. This created a ripple of excitement as those around them gathered closer.

Things started off slowly. Regular members knew that Harry had never been there before – but that Cherie had. So they had an unspoken agreement to take it easy on Cherie's guest. Only the men with the most control over themselves used Harry at first. They tested him to see what he could take, and taught him how to surrender his will and soften his throat so that he could take a bit more. Then he was cleared for others who might be a bit rougher with him.

After a while, Harry entered a state in which he was sort of drifting as he let men fuck his face. He was having fun, which surprised him since he thought he'd call it quits after the first two or three. He and Cherie kissed each other each time a man filled their mouths – which felt filthy and thrilling all at the same time. But in any case, he felt a bit like he was standing outside his body watching himself have these shocking things done to him. His shaft was so hard that it hurt when he paused to think about it. It had also been leaking since about ten minutes in – a long string that had formed a small puddle on the knee cushion.

He was _so ready_ to have sex! If the ugliest, smelliest, dirtiest, most snaggletoothed woman in the world spread her legs before him at that moment and told him to bugger her dirty rotten, he not only would, he wouldn't even think twice about it! A groan of sheer need escaped from him.

A man chuckled. “It sounds like you're ready for the next step. May I fuck your arse, and do you prefer to use condoms?”

“Yes and yes!” Harry blurted out almost desperately. He and Cherie had talked about how one of the membership requirements was regular health reports to prove that they were clean, so condoms weren't required. Thus Harry wouldn't have given half a second's thought to them if not asked. Even so, he really would prefer his first time bottoming for anyone other than Draco to be protected.

The man – who was tall and thick with an incongruously short and thin shaft – caressed Harry's arse lovingly for a few moments before grabbing some lube and slowly working him open. This was literally required for safety reasons, but was also just common courtesy.

Harry kissed Cherie, sharing the spunk she had in her mouth. The man pushed Harry forward a little to make things easier, and others supported him so that he didn't lose his balance and fall over. Both he and Cherie had new men eager to use their mouths, and then Harry could feel his imminent lover rub the head of his shaft up and down Harry's crack in a playful tease to heighten the anticipation for both of them.

“Stop!” A regal voice cried out in a tone that fully expected to be obeyed immediately. This made everyone in the room freeze in startlement. Slowly, the crowd parted and a man strode forward. He was wearing shiny and tight black leather trousers and a sheer silver button down shirt with black combat boots. “You're breaking the rules.”

“Draco!” Harry gasped in astonishment, probably looking like a love-struck idiot.

Draco barely glanced at him, instead focusing on the man about to shag him. “This submissive belongs to me, and you didn't ask for my permission to use him.”

“Sorry, Master,” the man apologized obediently. He wasn't a submissive himself, but that was actually Draco's title at the club. “May I have permission to use your Sub?”

“No. I want him all to myself tonight,” Draco stated, snapping his fingers and gesturing to a few of the attendants. “Bring him to my room. It seems I need to punish him.”

Harry inhaled a gasp of dismay. “What? Draco?”

“Quiet Harry,” Draco commanded, giving Harry a look of fond exasperation. He turned his attention to Cherie, who was watching them with a confused smile. “Is this the woman you told me about?”

Harry nodded.

“Small world,” Draco murmured in amusement, petting Cherie's head. She leaned into it like a cat. “Will you be alright on your own?”

She nodded. “No need to worry about me, Master. Please don't hurt him.”

Draco gently pushed on her nose. She wasn't one of his patrons, but they had met and talked from time to time since they both were here so often. “That's none of your concern,” he informed her with a mischievous smirk.

Meanwhile, the attendants had helped Harry to his feet and supported him as they brought him to Draco's private room – one of the few that could be locked. They quickly and carefully used a series of hooks on the Karada Harness so that Harry was effectively shackled to the wall, but this wasn't such a bad thing since the hooks and the harness helped keep him on his feet as the feeling slowly returned to his legs. With bows of deep respect, they left the room.

Draco silently locked the door before rotating slowly on the spot to look at Harry. It was at this point that it occurred to Harry to get mad. Really fucking angry, actually!

“Wait just a minute!” He roared. “ _You_ were the one that kept on insisting that _we are not together_ , but now suddenly you claim I belong to you and plan to punish me for playing around?!”

Draco had the grace to flinch ever so slightly. “I know. I'm breaking the rules. We don't have a contract and you don't actually belong to me, but I'll hex you mute if you try to tell anyone that.”

“What the hell, Draco?!” Harry cried out in confusion.

Draco held his hands up placatingly. “Listen, I didn't plan this. I was simply watching you, rather impressed that you kept on going. I thought for sure that you'd ask to stop after only a few minutes, but at least an hour passed. I considered taking a turn, but I decided that if you were here with your girlfriend, you probably didn't want me to give you such a big shock. But then I saw that man prepare you for entry and I...”

“What?” Harry asked, now curious despite feeling like he should probably still be angry.

“I couldn't...” Draco sighed as if surrendering to the inevitable. “I think I saw red. I couldn't just let him have you.” He walked up until he was close enough that their noses nearly touched. “You're _mine_ , Harry!”

Those words sent a powerful jolt straight to Harry's core, making him shiver and gasp, but then he shook his head. “Don't say that!”

“You're mine,” Draco reaffirmed with a fierce expression.

“I'm not!” Harry shouted, his heart racing. Something close to panic filled him, making him struggle against his bonds, but he was well and truly stuck.

Draco stroked Harry's cheek. “You are,” he murmured in a soft voice that nonetheless conveyed his steely conviction. Then he kissed Harry before the captive man could deny it again.

Harry felt his breath hitch and moaned without meaning to. He couldn't help but melt into the kiss for a long moment, before shaking his head to break free. “You can't do this to me,” he whispered emotionally.

“Do what?” Draco wondered with a puzzled frown. “Kiss you? Keep you at my mercy?”

“Claim me if you don't mean it,” Harry elaborated in a soft voice. “I'll let you play with my body all you want, but you can't have my heart.”

Draco frowned and bit his lip. “Who said anything about your heart?”

Harry turned his head away and closed his eyes in disappointment.

“Harry?” Draco prompted, stroking his cheek again.

Harry pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Wait... Are you saying...” Draco's voice shook and he had to take a step back to get a better look at Harry. “You... _love_ me?”

Harry turned his head to the side and studied a shelf full of toys and instruments he couldn't even begin to guess what they were for.

“Oh Harry,” Draco whispered, resting his head on Harry's chest for a long moment. Then he straightened up and walked over to the shelf, inspecting it for a few nerve wracking seconds before selecting a soft mini flogger. He held it up for Harry to see. “This won't hurt, but it will sting a little.”

“Draco,” Harry growled, not liking the fact that Draco actually planned to punish him.

“I broke my own rules for you,” Draco informed him, seemingly apropos of nothing. He returned to Harry and struck his arm with the flogger.

“What?” Harry asked in confusion, frowning at his arm, which truthfully didn't hurt, but still, wasn't pleasant.

“I told you back at the very beginning that I didn't want any sort of relationship. Not even friends with benefits or casual sex or whatever you want to call it,” Draco reminded him before striking his other arm.

“I know,” Harry grumbled petulantly.

“But then we kept meeting up,” Draco continued. He hit Harry with a flurry of strikes all over his chest. “I told myself to leave you alone, but I just couldn't stop myself. I'd...” he delivered a particularly vicious blow that stung, but thankfully didn't hurt – as promised. “I'd _miss_ you!” He flung the flogger at the shelf, obviously angry himself now. “I didn't want to want you but I couldn't get enough!” He flung his hands out in aggravation.

Then he took a breath to calm down. Harry watched silently as Draco seemed to melt. He ran his hands up and down Harry's sides and licked his neck.

Harry shivered at how erotic Draco's hot breath felt on his neck. He moaned and had a hard time following the conversation now that Draco's mouth was leaving a trail of kisses across his chest.

“I'd promise myself to stop seeing you, and then break my promise almost right away. You drive me mad, Harry. You're in my mind. In my heart. In my blood! You're _mine_!”

For a long time, the room was silent except for moans and gasps from Harry. Draco raked his fingers down Harry's chest and sides repeatedly. Kissing spots at random and exhaling hot breaths across the most sensitive of places. Every so often, he'd pinch or bite Harry. He never touched Harry's shaft with anything more substantial than his breath. Even so, Harry shuddered and shivered and devolved into babbled begging. Suddenly, he seized up from an orgasm that was astonishing because his shaft was completely untouched.

Draco covered Harry's bulbous glans with his hot mouth after the first spurt and drank the rest of them, even probing the slit with his tongue as the flow slowed to almost nothing.

“ _Fuuuuck...”_ Harry exhaled reverently, feeling like he melted into the wall. Why was sex with Draco always so powerful? Was it because Draco was apparently a Dom at a sex club? That was probably it, Harry admitted to himself, which sort of depressed him even as he wondered what they could do now that Harry _knew_ that Draco did kinky shit on a daily basis.

Since the door was locked and there were no witnesses, Draco whipped out his wand and vanished the ropes binding Harry, catching him before he could fall. Then he scooped Harry up and carried him to bed.

“I'm too worked up to prepare you properly, so I'm going to use quick prep spells. Unless you don't want sex,” Draco added, praying that Harry did. However, in this club especially, Draco was always mindful of consent.

“I do,” Harry confessed, feeling like he should _probably_ tell Draco to leave him alone until he'd had a chance to think everything through. But much like Draco had said earlier, Harry just couldn't bring himself to say no to the gorgeous bastard.

Exhaling in relief, Draco wasted no time in preparing Harry and oiling up his own shaft. He pressed into Harry with a groan of profound relief. “I missed you,” he whispered in Harry's ear. “It took everything I had to leave you alone once you told me you had a girlfriend.”

“I didn't want you to leave me completely alone,” Harry murmured, shifting so that he could meet Draco thrust for thrust. “I wanted you to go drinking with me and be my friend.”

Draco shook his head, gripping Harry's hips for better leverage. “No. I can't be just your friend. I want you too much for that. I nearly Apparated over to your house, abducted you, and tied you to my bed.”

“You are hands down _the most_ confusing man I've ever met, Draco Malfoy,” Harry muttered, bracing his weary and aching arms against the headboard for added leverage.

Draco chuckled and smirked. “So are you.” He then kissed Harry while ramming him into the bed vigorously.

Harry purred happily, grunting with each thrust. “I missed you too,” he confessed at one point. Not too long after that, the emotional roller-coaster Harry was on reached its climax, making Harry squeal and cling to Draco as he rode it out. He entered a state where the world went white and he knew he was awake, but seemed to be drifting on a cloud of bliss.

At the same time, Draco couldn't resist the feeling of Harry rippling on his shaft and sped up until he jerkily pumped Harry full. He collapsed onto Harry, panting and sort of humming or purring as he recovered. He could see that Harry was in subspace at the moment and settled in to wait for him to return before trying to talk to him.

Eventually, Harry shifted and gave Draco a soft kiss. “You're still here.”

Draco raised a brow in amusement. “This is my room, Potter. Why would I leave?”

“No, I mean that I've never woken up with you still in bed with me before,” Harry clarified.

“You weren't exactly asleep,” Draco pointed out.

“I know,” Harry admitted softly.

Draco brushed a clump of thick black hair out of Harry's face. “So this is it. _This_ is what I kept talking about but never actually explained. I work here in this club as a Dom and I'm not planning to stop. Here, I give people what they need. It's not only a way to atone for the sins of my past, but it's spiritual for me.”

“I guess I can understand why you wouldn't talk about it,” Harry admitted. “I'm not sure I would have understood if I hadn't already been in here with an open mind and a willingness to try something new. So, can you explain a bit more to me about the Dom/Sub thing? Cherie said that it was a beautiful give and take relationship in which one partner submits to and does anything it takes to please the other. It actually sounded to me a lot like a bossy arsehole taking advantage of a gullible schmuck.”

“I suppose that can happen,” Draco murmured sadly. “But when it's done right, it's not like that at all. At it's core, it's two people giving each other exactly what they need, and it's different for everyone. For example, Cherie likes to be tied up and left alone. For her, the thing she needs is a quick trip to subspace where she can meditate and leave all her worries behind. Even if she doesn't really have anything to worry about, the experience is liberating. Her ideal Dom – or Domme, it could be a woman – would be someone who needs to take care of someone and protect them. Someone who gains pleasure – not necessarily by the bondage itself, although that's definitely a turn on for a lot of people – but by seeing their Sub happy. By watching over them when they are at their most vulnerable and making sure that nothing happens to them. And then helping them recover when they are ready to come back and join the world again. You'd probably make a good Dom for her in that aspect if you learned what you were doing.”

Harry tilted his head curiously. “Actually, I was thinking something similar. I'm not sure I'd call myself a Dom, but in every sexual encounter I've had that wasn't you or Ginny, I was always the top. I wanted to be in charge and ensure that my partner had his or her pleasure before I took mine.”

Draco nodded in understanding. “That's common in people who don't know anything about kink. They'll have a natural preference that emerges a little. Places like this allow people to develop those natural preferences, and explore other things they might not have heard of before. Sometimes the thing that really gets a person off can be a surprising combination. I once worked with a woman who liked to be the most dominant Domme I've ever met, bossing her subs around with exacting and complicated demands, but she never truly had an orgasm until she pushed one of them too far and they beat her up and half raped her. Don't get me wrong, she was a champion fighter, so she could defend herself from unwanted attacks, but when she was with her subs – whom she knew were safe and wouldn't go _too_ far – she never put up a fight beyond a token struggle. It was definitely consensual, even if it didn't look like it from an outside point of view.”

Harry grimaced but shrugged it off. “What about people that aren't dominant or submissive. People who just like sex and aren't fussed by how.”

Draco smiled at him, happy that Harry was interested in this part of his life. “That's common too. And some people are Switches. That means that they enjoy being submissive at times and dominant at others. Not to mention, every truly good Dom has submitted at some point in their training to learn what it's like and to understand what their Sub is thinking and feeling. I was trained by the couple that owns this club.”

“So you submitted to them?” Harry asked with interest.

Draco nodded in confirmation. “Prior to that, I was shagging strangers at random in clubs – regular dance clubs and gay bars, not sex clubs like this. I had topped and bottomed and enjoyed both, but I was also continually high on muggle drugs and would have been equally happy (or unhappy, depending on your point of view) turning tricks on the streets. Geoffrey and Amethyst could read what I needed, and at that point, I needed them to show me a better way. I don't even want to think about what would have happened to me if they hadn't.”

“You did drugs?” Harry asked as he rubbed Draco's back. He was filled with sympathy, understanding that usually something dark and serious pushed a person to that point.

Draco simply nodded, not really wanting to go into more details. They were silent for a while as they each thought their own thoughts. Then Harry shifted to look Draco in the eye.

“So... Are we in a relationship now?”

“I suppose we are. Of a sort,” Draco replied with a thoughtful frown. “But I was serious when I said that I'm not going to give this up, so I don't expect you to be, er, faithful, I suppose. You can continue to date Cherie, whom I _know_ would understand our relationship.”

“So I don't actually belong to you?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Oh you do,” Draco assured him firmly before kissing him. “But what I mean by that is that –” He pressed his lips together and chuckled wryly. “You're _mine_ . No one else can _have you_ but you can have anyone you like.”

Harry had to think this over a moment. “Meaning that I can top anyone I want but no one else can top me?”

“Exactly,” Draco stated with a nod.

“That's mental, I hope you realize,” Harry murmured with a soft laugh.

“Perhaps, but the sight of you tied up and about to be shagged by another man made me see red, and yet the thought of you shagging Cherie – or even that man – doesn't upset me in the slightest,” Draco explained the best he could.

“Alright,” Harry murmured in understanding. “I'll agree to that, but only on the condition that you train me to be a Dom like you. I want to try it at the very least.”

“I can agree to that,” Draco said with a pleased smirk. “And whether you insist upon it or not, the same rule will apply to me. It actually always has. After I finished my training with Geoffrey and Amethyst and started working in this club, I never let anyone top me because, well... I suppose I didn't think anyone was worthy of the honor. Plus my job is to give my submissives what they need, and those who need to top usually want a submissive rather than a Dom.”

“So, wait, job? As in you get _paid_ to have sex with people?!” Harry blurted out in alarm. Prior to now, he thought that Draco was a member of the club who happened to volunteer his services or something. “That's prostitution!”

Draco sighed heavily. “I get paid for my time, Harry. I know that it's a fine distinction that probably wouldn't hold up in a court of law, but remember, I said that it isn't all about sex. If what my Sub needs is someone to dress him up like a puppy and force him to play fetch, then that's what I do. But my time is valuable and I'm not cheap. A patron has to prove they're serious about the process by paying my exorbitant fee, and once they do, I devote myself to figuring out exactly what they need and giving it to them.”

Harry gave him a flat look, the leftover Auror in him not buying his BS. “It may not _all_ be about sex, but enough of it is that it's clearly prostitution.”

Draco growled softly. “If your neighbor needed you to clean out their gutters and you charged them for your time and service, you wouldn't have any qualms about it. Why is it so hard to accept that what I do is the same principle?”

“Because you don't need the money!” Harry cried out.

“No, but I'm still a Malfoy, I don't just fritter my time and highly specialized knowledge away willy nilly!”

Harry took a deep breath because the truth was that he didn't know what to think. As an Auror, he had felt that breaking the law was always a bad thing, but now that he had quit and made furniture for a living, he could sort of, _maybe_ see a tiny bit of what Draco was saying. He made furniture and he charged people money to buy the furniture – _not_ because he needed the money, but because he felt he should get _something_ for his time and effort. And even though he tended to seriously undercharge for his furniture, he could understand how a different carpenter might need to seriously overcharge just to make a living.

“Hmm...” he murmured, not willing to concede the point just yet, but also not wanting to argue about it any more.

There was a soft knock at the door, which prompted Draco to crawl out of bed and go answer it. This made Harry realize that he'd never even gotten undressed! The gorgeous bastard was still wearing his shiny leather trousers and button down shirt. He was even still wearing the combat boots! All he'd done to shag Harry was push things down a bit, which he now corrected by pulling his trousers back up and putting himself away.

Draco opened the door to find Cherie looking rather concerned. “Did you murder Harry in here?”

Draco chuckled. “If you knew us both a lot better, you'd know that of the two of us, Harry's more likely to murder me than I am to murder him.”

“ONE TIME!” Harry roared, flinging his hands out for emphasis. “And that was an accident and you know it!”

Draco laughed as he walked back over to the bed, Cherie following him. “Not to worry, I forgave you when you pulled me out of that out of control fire.”

“Yeah, well, _no one_ deserves to die like that,” Harry grumbled, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. He sat up rather reluctantly.

Draco kissed him. “Did I ever thank you for saving my life?”

“You don't need to thank me,” Harry demurred. “You sort of saved my life once too.”

Draco gave a half shrug since it was at least partially true.

“And so did your mother, so I figure that we're even,” Harry added.

“Ah, so he's the one,” Cherie murmured in enlightenment.

“One?” Draco asked curiously.

Harry chuckled softly. “I told her about you.”

“Oh?” Draco questioned warily.

“Don't worry, all I said was that, er...” he blushed and looked away.

Draco laughed with a devilish grin. “That you know a man so hot that he lights a room on fire just by entering it?”

“Still an arrogant prat I see,” Harry muttered dryly.

“Still an arrogant arse I see,” Draco rebutted with a smirk.

“And an entitled prick,” Harry added with a light glare.

“Better than an uncultured swine,” Draco countered confidently.

Cherie laughed merrily. “You seem to be old friends.”

“We went to school together,” they informed her in unison.

“Ah,” Cherie murmured. “You'll have to tell me about it sometime. Are you ready to go, Harry? We should get back – unless you've changed your mind about staying at my house tonight.”

“No I'm still coming,” Harry assured her. “I want to hear all about what you were doing while I was tied up and at the mercy of this heartless bastard.”

“Oi! I think you mean generous philanthropist,” Draco corrected with his pointy aristocratic nose in the air.

Harry gave him a _look_ . “ _Philanthropist_?”

Draco sniffed haughtily. “I give so much of myself to others that there's almost nothing left.”

“Is that what you call it?” Harry asked in amusement.

“Oh go on before I he – er... have to punish you again,” Draco ordered, nearly forgetting that a muggle was in the room.

Harry smirked at him. “Send me a note when you're ready to talk.”

Draco scratched his cheek near his ear. “I work tomorrow and the next day but I'm free on Monday. We can go to the pub for drinks.”

Harry sighed in frustration. “Ginny's back for a few days and we're having a family dinner on Monday.”

“There's no way in Merlin's flatulent sphincter that I'd ever subject myself to your wretched weasels, Potter, so don't even ask!”

Harry looked a bit horrified. “Why in Merlin's rotting brain would I bring _you_ to a family dinner?! You and Ron would probably murder each other before dessert!”

Draco tilted his head side to side in a silent admission that it was probably true. A yawn escaped him, letting him know that he was actually pretty tired. He followed up the yawn by stretching his arms above his head, then to the sides as he bent his body side to side and forward to work out a few tense spots.

“Mmm...” Harry moaned in appreciation, now sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched the show. “Why are you so bloody gorgeous, Malfoy?”

“Quality genes, Potter,” Draco preened with a grin. He seized Harry's hair and gave him a demanding kiss. Then he turned to wink at Cherie. “Actually, it looks like you have a type.”

Cherie blushed lightly. Yes, she knew that she was beautiful, but she felt almost drab compared to him. Even so, she had pale blonde hair and was taller than most women. They could almost be brother and sister, so she could see Draco's point.

“Huh!” Harry blurted out speculatively. “I hadn't thought of that before, but I guess you're right.” He slipped out of bed and held out a hand to Cherie. She gave him an adoring smile before they kissed each other.

“Where did you two meet?” Draco asked curiously.

“At an auction,” Cherie answered with a soft smile.

“Did you sell yourself for charity?” Draco asked in amusement.

Harry laughed. “You'd be surprised how often people ask me to do that, but no. It was an estate sale. I wanted to learn more about furniture built to last through centuries.”

“And I couldn't resist a good sale,” Cherie added with a shrug. “But from the moment I saw Harry, I lost all interest in everything else.”

“We should go,” Harry suggested with a smile.

“See you later, Potter.”

“Good night, Malfoy.”

Hand in hand, Harry and Cherie turned to leave the room. Just as they reached the door, Harry stopped and turned back to find Draco watching him with an appreciative smile.

“Oh hey, Draco? Don't forget to owl – er – send me that note. I'll he – er – _punch_ you if you don't!”

Draco laughed. “You'd have to break into the Manor first, Harry, which could be interesting to see. My father would have an apoplectic fit!”

“That old bastard is still alive and kicking?”

“And as ruthless as ever,” Draco assured him. “He nearly tricked me into an arranged marriage last week, but fortunately, I was one step ahead of him.”

Harry harrumphed in amusement, waved goodbye, and followed his girlfriend to the lounge so they could get dressed and leave.

 

***

 

On Monday night, after Harry returned from dinner at the Burrow, he lay in bed thinking about Draco. His thoughts provoked a response that required some hands on attention. He closed his eyes and moaned over the mental image of Draco in his tight leather trousers. He might have been joking at the time, but there was truth in his words when Draco'd said that he was so hot that he could light a room on fire just by entering it.

A soft crack only barely caught Harry's attention. Smug chuckling made his eyes fly open in surprise.

“Well now, looks like you could use a hand, Potter. I was hoping you'd be home from dinner by now, and not spending the night with Cherie.” He pulled out his wand and gestured to Harry with it. “May I?”

“What do you have in mind?” Harry asked, curious enough to try just about anything.

Taking this as permission, Draco magically forced Harry's hands away from his shaft, together above his head, and then bound them to the headboard with a conjured Slytherin tie. Harry visually examined his predicament and raised a brow in amusement.

“A Slytherin tie, really?”

Draco ginned at him deviously as he stripped off. “Definitely!”

For the first half an hour or so, Harry felt like he couldn't quite catch his breath as Draco's hands and mouth roamed all over his body. Everywhere but the one place that felt like it was going to burst into tears and sob to death if it didn't get some attention soon. He gasped and squirmed, hoping that maybe the air on his shaft would give him a little relief if he wagged it back and forth.

Suddenly, Draco decided to shift until he was straddling Harry's chest, facing away from him. He pushed his arse into Harry's face. Then he lightly flicked Harry's painfully eager shaft.

“If you do an excellent job of rimming me, I'll reward you with a blowjob,” he bargained – but really, he was giving an order.

Harry groaned in longing at the prospect. “It would be so much easier if my hands were free...”

“Too bad,” Draco denied with a smirk, exhaling a hot breath on Harry's shaft to remind him what was at stake.

Groaning again, Harry focused his attention on probing Draco's tight pucker with his tongue. He really got into it, making a slobbery mess of the area. Every once in a while, Draco would lick his shaft or give him a good suck – and just that was nearly enough to send Harry over the edge, but Draco would squeeze the base of his shaft tightly to prevent it.

When Draco realized that _he_ was whimpering from need, he decided that it was time to move on. He shifted again, this time facing Harry as he straddled his waist. Reaching back, he held Harry's shaft steady as he conjured lube directly into his hole, and then lowered himself onto Harry. The large, puffy, mushroom head was the hardest part to accept, but once Draco relaxed enough to let it in, it felt amazing inside him.

“It's surprising how much I love this feeling,” he murmured to himself as he closed his eyes and worked on getting Harry all the way inside him.

Harry moaned in agreement, tightening the muscles of his buttocks and hips in order to give Draco a firm base. Draco rode him in quick and shallow thrusts at first, but once he was ready, switched to longer and slower thrusts that seemed designed to torture and tease Harry. More and more, Harry profoundly wished that he could just grab Draco, roll him onto his back, and then pound him into the bed.

To both their surprise, his magic flared, setting the Slytherin tie on fire so that it burned up with a bright flash that didn't harm Harry in the slightest. With an exclamation of triumph, Harry grabbed Draco and pulled him close so that they could safely roll over. He rammed into Draco rather forcefully, positively _needing_ to pump him full as soon as possible.

“Uh!” Draco gasped with each thrust. He dug his fingers into Harry's hips and arse, arching his back as he felt the end approach. Well, the end of the first half.

Just as they were both crying out from orgasm, an astonished gasp startled them both. They looked over to find Ginny staring at them in downright gobsmacked shock. She flushed rather abruptly and blurted out: “SORRY!”

Harry chuckled wryly. “Did you need something?”

She put a hand along the side of her face to give them a bit of privacy as she looked away. “I, er, I j-just wanted to talk. About... _well..._ but it looks like you're probably done for the night now anyway.”

Harry gave Draco a probing look. “Can you teach me that Karada thing?”

“On Ginny?” Draco asked in surprise.

“If she's amenable,” Harry murmured with a shrug.

“Amenable?” Draco questioned Harry's surprisingly intelligent vocabulary with an amused smirk even as Ginny wondered: “Karada thing?”

Harry pulled out of Draco, panting lightly from the rather strenuous exercise, and cast a quick cleaning spell on both of them. “Ginny, come here please.”

She hesitated for a moment before deciding that she was curious enough to see what he wanted. She blushed even as her eyes greedily feasted on Draco's naked body. She may have disliked him through most of school, but he'd always been easy on the eyes.

Both men slid out of bed, wobbling just a little until they recovered a bit of their energy. Harry had already deflated but Draco – as usual – was still hard and ready to go. It amused him to see Ginny studying his shaft with a spark of lust in her eyes. He cast a spell to make all her clothes temporarily intangible so that he could banish them to a chair off to the side.

“Er...” she droned hesitantly, but didn't protest.

Next, Draco conjured up a coil of rope. It was thin and a good balance between rough and smooth. He quickly uncoiled the rope and found the center of the 10 meters, which he formed into a loop. With Harry watching avidly, he placed the loop between Ginny's shoulder blades and draped the sides over her shoulders.

“ _Er..._ ” Ginny droned apprehensively.

“Don't worry, Gin, he won't hurt you,” Harry assured her.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded in acceptance and consent. Surprisingly quickly, Draco had Ginny wearing a beautiful Karada Dress. Then he took it apart and did it again so that Harry could ask and have all his questions answered. Then he took it apart again so that Harry could give it a try – which took about three times longer.

Ginny was feeling not so inexplicably horny by the time Harry had finished. She looked at herself, liking the dress and not really knowing why. It covered nothing and seemed to have no purpose other than kinky decoration. She didn't realize that it could be used as a base for other bondage techniques.

Draco grinned at Harry. “Let me show you a [Dragonfly Harness](https://www.theduchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/DragonflyHarness69.jpg) with sleeves. I'm positive Cherie will just love it.”

“Cherie?” Ginny questioned curiously.

“My girlfriend,” Harry informed her softly.

“Oh. I didn't know you were seeing anyone,” Ginny murmured.

“That's because it's still new enough that I'm not certain about anything,” Harry replied with a shrug.

Ginny eyed Draco up and down significantly. “So you're cheating on her?”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “She knows about Draco and doesn't mind.”

“ _Mmmhmm_...” she hummed in disbelief.

As they were discussing this, Draco was busy untying the Karada. When the rope was off Ginny and in his hands, he formed two loops in the center and made a handcuff knot, making the “cuffs” big enough to go around Ginny's arms and shoulders at her back. Then he formed another knot under the first and formed a loop that could be split into two loops that went around her wrists and then slid all the way up to her biceps. This action was repeated all the way down her back and arms until the loops reached her wrists.

At that point, the rope was fed through Ginny's legs so that it was now in front of her. He was very nearly out of rope, so he cast a spell to extend it quite a bit. Draco was biting his bottom lip very lightly in concentration while Harry was biting his lip a bit harder as he tried to memorize all the steps. Ginny felt rather like a mannequin must, she supposed, if it could feel.

Crisscrossing Ginny's front in a similar manner to lacing one's shoes or doing up a corset, Draco cinched the loops on her arms and created a sort of corset or harness. When he reached the underside of her breasts, he ran the rope up their sides and looped them through the original loop around her shoulders, creating a decorative top that highlighted and utterly did _not_ cover her breasts in the slightest. Then he used a series of hitch knots all the way back down her front to add more decoration since the harness could be considered complete at that point. Harry had to admit that the added decoration looked nice.

When Draco was finished, Ginny could move a little, but her arms weren't at any sort of awkward angle that would hinder her circulation. They were actually comfortably at her sides, like she might stand while patiently waiting in a queue. Well, they were a little towards her back, but still comfortable.

Harry frowned in thought and tilted his head side to side as he looked her over. “So wait, Cherie said that she likes to have sex while tied up like this, but how is that possible with the rope between her legs like that?”

“Just shift it to the side. I could show you, if you like,” Draco offered with a smirk.

Ginny blushed but Harry chuckled. “That's up to Ginny.”

Ginny surveyed her predicament. “It looks like I don't have much choice in the matter.”

“Of course you do,” Draco assured her. “Tied up or not, I would never have sex with a person without his or her permission. Or her Dom's,” he added with a mysterious smile.

Ginny licked her lips nervously. “Er... I, er... I suppose... Yeah. I think I'd like that...”

Unexpectedly thrilled to have a spontaneous and new thing to do with Harry – even if it wasn't directly with Harry – Draco scooped Ginny up and carried her to the bed, being careful to lay her down gently so that her arms weren't trapped painfully under her. Then he sat in between her legs and waited for Harry to get comfortable sitting next to them.

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Ginny muttered almost inaudibly as she watched the two men kiss each other while stroking her hips and legs. But Merlin damn it! It had been a while and Harry had always been fantastic in bed.

Draco smirked at her before lifting her enough to slide a pillow under her lower back. This would give Harry a much better view. Then he firmly placed a hand on her thigh so that she had warning before he slid it up into her groin area.

“See, the ropes are loose enough to be moved to one side or the other, or split apart. Also, I didn't add a happy knot because I had a feeling you might ask this.”

“A happy knot?” Harry questioned.

“It's just a knot directly over the clitoris – well, vagina in general if the knot is big enough,” Draco explained. “Cherie had one the other day in the club.”

“Oh,” Harry stated, recalling that he had seen that.

“The knot makes this a bit more difficult, but isn't impossible to work around, especially from behind,” Draco elaborated. He then shifted both sides of the rope to the right side so that it was more likely to stay put than if he split it to either side. Once he did so, he probed her with one finger, grinning. “She's nice and wet, but I'm not surprised. We've had about an hour of foreplay by this point.”

Ginny blushed at this, wishing that she could cover her face with her hands. She didn't say anything because it was true. Simply being tied up repeatedly had turned her on so badly that she might well have begged anyone she saw to bugger her raw – even a big scary stranger or an entire rival Quidditch team! She inhaled a gasp when Draco located her clit and rubbed it with the pad of his middle finger.

“Tease her,” he ordered Harry. “Run your hands down her sternum and abdomen. Bite her nipples just hard enough to sting, but not hard enough to actually hurt. Tickle her sides if you're so inclined.”

“Mmm,” Harry moaned at the suggestions.

Ginny whimpered and squirmed. She was already _so ready_ and it seemed like they wanted to play with her all night. Looking Harry in the eyes, she pouted the best she knew how.

“Please Harry...”

Harry smirked at her before giving her a kiss and gently nipping her bottom lip. “It's _Draco_ you have to beg, not me.”

Ginny shifted her attention to Draco, who was rapidly making her legs shake now that he had inserted the fingers of his other hand inside her and located a spot she'd never had anyone else massage before. “Ah!” She gasped as the pleasure hit her like lightning. “Please!”

“We'll get there,” Draco assured her.

Even though that sounded like a promise, he didn't seem to be in any rush to keep it. He stimulated her as he watched Harry tease her for so long that she lost all count of how many orgasms she had. She even squirted! She was babbling and begging and damn near wailing at that point.

 _Finally_ , Draco shifted into position, kneeling and pulling her legs over his hips, and entered her in a smooth thrust that was just abrupt enough that it startled a gasp out of her. He paused to savor the feel. “I love how tight a woman gets after a couple of orgasms.”

“Shouldn't she actually be relaxed?” Harry wondered, pausing the swirling of his tongue around her right nipple.

“If I left her alone, she would be – she'd probably be passed out! – but I've wound her up rather tightly by this point,” Draco explained with a smug grin. He chose those powerful ramming thrusts that both he and Harry just loved.

Ginny gasped with each thrust. Harry well knew that her mouth was more than likely dry at the moment, and so cast a spell – a modified Aguamenti – that would keep her mouth wet without choking her. She sighed in relief and gratefully returned the kiss he gave her.

Then Harry smiled at Draco. “You know, watching you give someone else pleasure like this is surprisingly, er, hot. A turn on. I didn't think it would be.”

Draco returned his smile. “I love watching others give and receive pleasure. For example, I think you should 'force' her to suck you off.”

“Mmm...” Harry moaned in anticipation.

Ginny nodded in consent, too busy panting and gasping to reply properly. Harry got to his knees so that he could lift her up a bit and put a few pillows under her shoulders and head for support. Draco obligingly paused until she was situated. He watched rather avidly as Harry took himself in hand and entered her mouth.

Ginny moaned and wiggled her hips in a reminder that Draco had an important job to do. Chuckling, he resumed said job, using her rather roughly in his lust over seeing Harry's pleasure. At the same time, Harry was holding Ginny's head steady and thrusting into her soft, warm mouth. Having been on the receiving end of this, he took care not to choke or hurt her. Even so, it felt fairly close to heaven – especially with the sight of Draco pounding into her.

Surprisingly, it was Ginny who reached orgasm first, squealing like a stuck pig – the best she could with a shaft in her mouth – as her whole body shook like the Earth during a quake. This triggered Harry, making him pump her mouth so full that streams poured out, which made sense since she was too busy screaming to swallow. Eager to catch up with them, Draco sped up until he reached his own climax.

With a blissful sigh, Harry shifted until he was lying next to Ginny and using her shoulder as a pillow. She was panting harder than if she'd just won a hundred meter dash, her eyes closed and already more than half passed out. Draco leaned over to give her a tender kiss – a sort of thank you for the shag – before rolling to lay on Harry's other side, using _him_ as a pillow.

Harry ran a hand through Draco's silky white hair. “Are you actually going to stay this time?”

“Do you want me to?” Draco asked in a sleepy murmur.

“Yes,” Harry stated firmly.

“Alright then,” Draco agreed with a yawn, already falling asleep.

“Good.” Harry gave him a kiss before falling asleep himself.

In the morning, Ginny purred as memories slowly brought her to consciousness. She couldn't recall having such glorious sex in... possibly ever. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought having sex with _Draco buggering Malfoy_ would be such a good experience.

Her bladder sent her an urgent message that it was definitely time to get up. She tried to move, only she couldn't. Cracking an eye open, she discovered that she was still tied up and her lovers were pinning her to the bed. Mostly Harry, but Draco was pinning Harry, so it was actually a miracle that she could breathe.

“Er... Harry? _Harry_... Harry!” She resorted to trying to kick him awake. “Godric damn it! I need to use the loo! Wake the buggering hell up!”

Draco snickered rather gleefully and lifted his head to look at her. “It's actually _me_ you need to wake up. I'm the one that knows how to untie you.”

“ _Please_?!” She begged with a puppy dog pout.

“Alright, just give me a –”

He was interrupted when a new voice blurted out: “ _I don't even want to know_!” They looked over to find Ron standing in the open doorway with a hand slapped over his eyes. “I heard you shouting – Ginny – and came to tell you that Mione and I made breakfast and it's ready to eat. I'll just be down there...” He turned to run away. “Oi, Mione! Will you please Obliviate me?!”

Ginny laughed until she cried, then lightly sobbed. “Please hurry, I really need to go!”

Still a bit stunned by being caught by Ron, and not quite sure how to react, Draco returned his attention to Ginny. “Er, right.”

Harry surprised them both by sighing a little morosely. “Ron's going to murder me, isn't he?”

Ginny giggled. “ _Maybe..._ ”

As quickly as possible, Draco helped Ginny to the loo and left her for privacy reasons as she did her business. He figured that she'd appreciate it far more if he took the time to remove the harness _after_ she'd had her slash. And then it occurred to him that he could have just vanished the ropes, but c'est la vie.

Breakfast was a rather awkward affair, but they all got through it relatively intact. To Harry's relief, Ron was too flustered by Draco's continued presence to murder Harry for tying his sister up and having a threesome with someone they all hated back in school. Hermione and Ginny kept exchanging looks and giggling. Harry and Draco kept exchanging knowing smirks, and Ron found it rather hard to eat more than one plate full of food. But eventually, they were all relatively full and it was time to go about their respective days.

 

***

 

About six months later, Draco was having another awkward breakfast. This time, it was his mother and Pansy who had teamed up to make his life momentarily miserable. As they did, his father sat quietly eating his breakfast and listening to them.

“But Draco, darling, your birthday is coming up in just a couple of months,” Pansy reminded him. “You'll be 28 and no longer such a young man.”

“Exactly,” his mother agreed. “It's long past time that you got married and started a family.”

“You've been saying that since I was sixteen,” Draco reminded her, exaggerating only slightly. His parents had mentioned keeping an eye out for a suitable bride back then, but hadn't actually started urging him to get married until he was 20.

Narcissa looked tempted to roll her eyes. “Regardless, it's true. If you don't get married by the time you're 30, you'll find it increasingly harder to have children. Unless you choose a much younger bride...” She looked like she couldn't decide if this was a good idea worth encouraging, or a bad one that she should advise against.

“Who said I wanted children?” Draco wondered.

“Oh come now!” Pansy scoffed imperiously. “I know they _seem_ like a lot of work, but with the help of a good house elf, they're actually worth all the fuss.”

Draco rolled his eyes at her. “It's not about hard work. I just don't want to get married for the sole purpose of creating mini Malfoys.”

“Oh but Draco!” Pansy protested. “Don't you realize how adorable your babies will be?!”

Draco laughed and preened just a little. “Of course they would be! But that's still not a good reason to have them.”

“What _do_ you consider a good reason then?” Narcissa asked curiously.

Draco shrugged. “I suppose if I genuinely fell in love with someone I wanted to marry – who wanted to marry me – and we _both_ felt it was a good idea to have children, then maybe I'd do it.”

Narcissa and Pansy sighed in unison, almost as if they had practiced it. Both also glared at him lightly.

“How in Salazar's gaping arsehole are you supposed to fall in love with someone if you never even date?” Pansy demanded in irritation.

“I date,” Draco informed her with a blank expression so that he wouldn't give anything unintended away.

She raised a brow and gave him a _look_. “Oh really? Since when?”

“I've actually been dating someone for a couple of years – now that I think back on it,” Draco mused, stroking his chin. He may have denied it and fought it tooth and nail, but each time he met Harry in a pub, they had the equivalent of a date before going back to his place for the night.

Now that they were in a committed although open relationship, they spent a lot more time together – and it wasn't all sex either. They stayed in for dinner, or went out for dinner, or even went to the theater to watch movies. Draco felt that it worked out rather well with him spending time with Harry whenever he wasn't working at the club. When he was, Harry went out on dates with Cherie, and so, spent time with them both fairly equally.

“You have?!” His parents and Pansy all blurted out in an astonished concert.

“Yes...” Draco confirmed warily.

“Then why haven't you mentioned it before?!” Narcissa demanded, determined to get to the bottom of this rather shocking news.

“Because...” Draco hesitated, and then sighed in defeat. “Because I didn't think you'd like the idea of me dating him.”

Narcissa flapped a hand dismissively. “You dating a man doesn't bother me.” Then she gasped in dismay. “Unless it's one of those muggles you like to play with!”

Draco harrumphed in amusement. “Actually, he may be a wizard, but he's probably worse than a muggle in your opinion.”

“A squib?” Pansy asked with a puzzled frown.

Draco rubbed the back of his neck before scratching an itch near his left ear.

“Draco?” Lucius prompted, half dying of curiosity himself now.

Draco pressed his lips together and twisted them side to side.

“Draco?” Narcissa pressed determinedly.

Draco sighed again, still rather reluctant but knowing that they'd all be at him like a crup with a bone until he answered. Worse! They'd probably recruit the rest of his friends to nag him about it too. He picked up his cup of tea and brought it to his lips, pausing before actually taking a sip.

“I'm dating Harry Potter.”

They all stared at him in shock as he drained his cup of tea and set it gently back in its place on the table.

“What?” Narcissa asked, recovering first.

“ _Harry Potter_?!” Pansy blurted out incredulously. “You're having us on!”

“Not so,” Draco assured her.

“I don't believe it! There's no way in Merlin's abnormally large prick that you're _actually_ dating Harry bloody Potter!” Pansy cried out.

“But I am,” Draco reaffirmed, tilting his head to the side as he wondered what he'd have to say to convince her.

“ _Prove it_!” Pansy insisted.

“Er...” Draco trailed off, wondering how he was supposed to do that. Pursing his lips, he summoned a piece of official Malfoy stationary. As he wrote, he spoke out loud so that they'd know what he was writing. “Potter, you are expected to join me for tea at the Manor this afternoon at two sharp. Draco Malfoy.”

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged questioning looks. If this proved to be true, what exactly were they supposed to do about it? Pansy had narrow eyes, still not believing that Draco wasn't trying to pull something.

Melisande hooted as Draco tied the note to her leg. “Take this to Harry Potter.” She nodded in understanding and took off the moment he was done.

“Satisfied now?” Draco asked with a tone of mild challenge.

“Not even remotely,” Pansy stated flatly.

 

***

 

At two minutes past two – plus a few seconds – Harry emerged from the fireplace to find himself in a large and sunny drawing room full of Slytherins. He had been somewhat prepared to meet with Lucius and Narcissa – figuring that Draco would have suggested somewhere else if meeting them wasn't the plan. He had absolutely _no_ idea that all of Draco's friends would be there too.

“Sorry about this,” Draco apologized with a sweeping gesture to indicate everyone. “I had to confess to our relationship this morning at breakfast. Pansy insisted that I prove it was true, and when I invited you for tea, she went out and rounded up everyone else.”

Harry snorted. “Probably so you can all take turns hexing me.”

“You're late,” Lucius pointed out with a light sneer.

“Well, it took me longer than anticipated to find something to wear,” Harry admitted with a shrug.

“And _that's_ what you went with?” Pansy asked with a brow raised in disbelief.

Harry gave her a flat look. His dark gray trousers and light blue jumper were just fine, thank you very much!

Blaise decided to try for supportive. “Perhaps we should take Potter shopping sometime and buy him something decent.”

“I actually _have_ a wardrobe full of designer clothes,” Harry informed him defensively.

“You do?” Draco asked in surprise.

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, I'm sent all the latest fashions in the hopes that I'll wear them at Ministry functions and charity events. When I go to them, I pick out something I think looks good on me and wear it, so...”

“Ah,” Draco murmured. “That makes sense. Anyway, welcome. Would you like to take a seat?”

“I suppose that depends on whether I should expect to be poisoned or hexed,” Harry muttered dryly.

Draco flapped a hand at him dismissively. “Oh no, the firing squad isn't scheduled until half three.”

Harry chuckled. “In that case, lead the way.” He held out a hand to Draco, who took it with a soft smile.

“I don't suppose you'd let us take a look at those designer clothes?” Theo asked hopefully as they all walked over to the large table laden with a full tea service.

Draco gave him a quelling look.

“ _What?_ It's not like Potter is wearing most of them anyway,” Theo pointed out.

“True,” Harry admitted. He felt just a bit awkward as he watched Lucius, Blaise, Theo, and Greg seat their wives. Draco seated Astoria, and then gestured for Harry to sit in the chair between Draco and Narcissa. Once they were all settled, Harry looked over at Theo. “Why not? Kreacher!”

“Master calls?” Kreacher asked after popping into the room.

“Gather up all the clothes I store in the room where I keep the clothes I only wear on special occasions, and bring them here,” Harry ordered.

“Seasonal occasions or formal occasions?” Kreacher asked in his rather gloomy voice.

“Formal,” Harry stated. “Except for that suit I wear when dancing. I rather that one.”

“As Master wishes,” Kreacher replied with a respectful bow.

“Too bad you don't get sent gowns,” Pansy lamented.

“Right?” Daphne and Astoria asked in unison.

“Who said I don't?” Harry wondered as he selected a few small sandwiches from a floating tray.

They all raised a brow at him at that.

“Something you wish to tell me, Potter?” Draco drawled in amusement.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Nothing like that. They simply hope I'll bring a date and have her wear something that matches what I'm wearing.”

They made idle chitchat while drinking tea and eating tiny food until Kreacher returned with several long columns of floating clothes – which looked a bit like they were on racks in a department store. An expensive one. Harry gestured to them.

“Have at it!”

Blaise was not the only one to exclaim happily and rush over like a kid let loose in a candy store. Theo, Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria did too. Draco, Greg, and Millie remained seated. Nothing could tear Greg from a good spread, and Millie well knew that she had an oddly shaped body (tall and a little thick) that needed custom made clothes, so there was nothing on the rack for her anyway. Draco smiled warmly at Harry.

“I think you just made their entire day,” he murmured before giving Harry a quick kiss.

Harry returned the smile with a shrug and a light blush. “I wasn't doing anything with them anyway.”

“Ooo! _Fuck!_ This is a limited edition!” Pansy cried out gleefully as she held up a stunning black gown.

“Pansy! Language,” Draco chided.

But she didn't hear him because Blaise practically roared: “Bend me over and bugger me sideways! This is a one of a kind by my favorite designer!”

“Ooo! This is _gorgeous_!” Astoria purred in delight. She was more than a little tempted to strip off right there and try the shimmering golden dress on.

Narcissa sighed in disapproval and clapped her hands. “Children, please, sit back down and finish your tea. You can shop later.”

“Yes Ma'am,” they all murmured obediently, reluctantly doing as ordered.

“So...” Draco scrambled to find something, _anything_ to talk about. Before he could come up with anything more substantial than Quidditch, his mother took over.

“Lovely to see you again, Mr. Potter. Do you mind my asking how you ended up dating my son?”

Harry blushed and looked at Draco questioningly.

“Er...” Draco droned for a moment. “Well, _before_ we started dating, we ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Literally.”

“And I invited him to a muggle pub for drinks,” Harry added.

“After that, we just kept meeting up,” Draco finished with a shrug.

“And does he know about your twisted little club?” Lucius asked pointedly. It was a bit of contention between them. Lucius and Narcissa obviously felt that Draco might get serious about settling down if he'd stop literally fucking around.

“Is he referring to Le Petit Mort?” Harry asked Draco.

Draco snorted in amusement. “You think I have time to go to _other_ twisted clubs?”

“I don't think it's twisted,” Harry murmured with a light frown. “It's rather liberating, actually.”

“Not fair!” Blaise whinged. “I've been _begging_ Draco to take me there for _ages_!”

“And I told him not to until the kids were a bit older and I'm ready to explore again,” Pansy informed him.

“Ah,” Blaise stated, tactfully not arguing with his wife.

Daphne smirked cattily at Harry. “So, Potter, tell me more about your experience at this club of Draco's.”

“You _really_ want me to tell you that?” Harry asked with a tone of amused challenge.

“Save that sort of conversation for after dinner drinks,” Narcissa insisted.

Daphne and Blaise both sighed in frustration at that, but didn't argue.

“So...” Draco tried again. This time, he was interrupted by a bright flash as a silvery otter burst into existence next to Harry.

“Harry!” Hermione's voice hissed urgently. “Where are you?!”

Harry whipped out his wand and cast his Patronus. The magnificent stag ran around the room for a moment before returning to him with a questioning look. “Tell Hermione: I'm having tea with Draco at the Manor. I'll firecall you later.”

“Convenient,” Pansy drawled, mildly impressed.

“I didn't know they could do that,” Astoria remarked, also impressed.

Before Harry could explain anything, the otter returned. “Harry, this is important! Ginny was just knocked off her broom and is being rushed to St. Mungo's!”

“I have to go,” Harry announced, leaning over to give Draco a swift kiss.

Draco grabbed his hand and held on tight. “I'll come with you.”

“You don't have to do that,” Harry murmured, touched by the offer.

“I know, but I want to,” Draco assured him.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he got to his feet. He was still holding Draco's hand, so he tugged him to his feet. “Well come on then.”

Nodding, Draco barely had time to tell his mother: “I'll be back later,” before Harry Apparated them away.

After they were gone, his friends looked around at each other in surprise.

“He's serious,” Pansy stated. “I didn't think he was.”

“He is,” Theo agreed with a nod. “You could see it on his face.”

“And the way they looked at each other,” Blaise added.

“I think it's adorable,” Astoria purred.

“Aren't you supposed to marry him?” Millie asked in mild confusion.

Astoria shrugged. “And compete with a club for his attention? No. Besides, I have a lover I'm rather devoted to.”

Narcissa gave her husband a piercing look. “It seems that we're going to have to accept the situation.”

Lucius groaned but didn't even try to argue the point.

 

***

 

Later that night – after the Healers had pronounced Ginny stable and ready for visitors, and they'd wished her well – Harry and Draco lay curled up in Harry's bed. They'd shagged, but unlike the majority of their times together, it had been quick and to the point. Harry had been too worried to really want hours of fantastic sex.

Draco held Harry in his arms and absently drew swirling patterns on his shoulder and back. “I'm sorry about springing my parents and friends on you.”

“No problem,” Harry murmured sleepily. “It was bound to happen at some point now that we're dating.”

Draco sighed rather heavily. “My parents want me to settle down and get married.”

“To Astoria?” Harry asked curiously. “She's lovely, by the way.”

“She is,” Draco agreed. “But it's not her that they specifically want me to marry. They just want me to, er, be happy, I suppose.”

“And that means getting married?” Harry asked in amusement.

“To them, yes,” Draco confirmed.

“But what if you're happier _not_ married?” Harry wondered.

“Then I won't get married,” Draco stated with a shrug. “Now that they know that I'm dating you, I can hopefully convince them of exactly that.”

“Would it help if we lived together?” Harry asked in a soft and hopeful voice.

Draco shifted to look him in the eye. “You mean that?”

Harry nodded. “I do.”

Draco smiled and kissed him. “I'd like that.” They relaxed back into a warm snuggle.

“I suppose we could eventually try all the other stuff too,” Harry added after a moment of comfortable silence.

Draco harrumphed softly. “Let's not put the carriage before the thestral, Potter.”

Chuckling, Harry kissed him.

Then Draco shrugged. “But I suppose we could. Some day.”

Grinning, Harry started a second round after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I know I focused on the bondage kink a lot and sort of glossed over other kinks, but that's because I was serving the muse that inspired this fic. If you want to see me try my hand at a particular kink you like, please let me know in the comments :-)


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